


Unexpected

by incognitajones



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, F/M, Marriage of Convenience, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/pseuds/incognitajones
Summary: Rey doesn’t want anything from her one-night stand Ben Solo, not even now that she’s broke, jobless, and pregnant. But he’s desperate to avoid a scandal that could derail his election campaign, so they agree to a cold-blooded business deal: she’ll marry him and be the perfect political wife—for a price, and a limited term.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 65
Kudos: 252
Collections: WIP Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Moodboard](https://incognitajones.tumblr.com/post/630737560979816448/unexpected-25000-words-rated-e-moodboard-and) and [artwork](https://imgur.com/Gq8Gjq4) created by **Doptimous**

Tall, dark, and miserable at the end of the bar was drinking expensive bourbon like soda pop. Rey saw a lot of people drowning their sorrows; that was part of the job at any bar, but here at the Hotel Galaxy it was usually over an affair or a business deal gone south. This man didn’t fit either category, as far as she could tell. His left hand didn’t have a wedding ring or the worn groove that told of one recently removed. He wasn’t welded to his phone, alternating between frantically texting and barking into it.

He just sat there, staring into his glass or glancing up at the screen above the bar where a basketball game played silently. When he caught her watching him, he raised a finger to signal for another drink, even though the one in front of him was still more than half full.

Rey gave him a nod and turned to reach for the top shelf bourbon he was drinking before shifting down to the other end of the bar to grab a highball glass from the clean ranks of them in front of Finn’s station. “What’s his story?” she asked, subtly tipping her chin in the direction of the silent man.

Her roommate glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t know. He was here last night, didn’t say a word to me other than his order. Drank alone for a couple of hours and then went back to his room. Tipped well, though.” He went back to stripping mint leaves into a glass for the mojito at table six.

When Rey set the fresh drink down in front of the lone man, the other one was empty. She raised an eyebrow at how quickly he’d drained at least an ounce of expensive straight bourbon.

“Is it that bad?” she asked him. “Maybe you should eat something.” Not just because food was Rey’s go-to solution for feeling shitty, but because it would help derail the hangover train this guy was going to feel like he’d been run over by in the morning.

“Have you ever had to eat crow?” He swirled the amber liquid in the heavy glass, staring at it glumly. 

Rey wanted to laugh. What would someone like him know about eating crow? “Pretty much every day of my childhood,” she said. She picked up a bar rag and wiped away the circle of condensation left by his glass before putting down a coaster. 

He looked up at her, and the sheer misery in his dark eyes made her reconsider. Whatever was bothering him, it didn’t seem like something frivolous. 

“I deserve it, don’t get me wrong. But I think that makes it worse in some ways. Have you ever had to face people who have every reason to hate you? People you’ve fucked over so deeply they deserve revenge?” He tossed back the rest of his bourbon and smacked the empty glass back down—on the coaster this time, at least. 

“No.” At least Rey had always known that she didn’t deserve the way she was treated. Believing that was another matter; but she hadn’t done anything wrong.

He rubbed his hand over his dark, deep-set eyes. “I have to go back and eat a huge helping of humble pie… why are so many apology metaphors food-based?”

“I don’t know, but whatever humble pie is, it doesn’t sound very appetizing. Face the music?” Rey suggested. “That’s a little better.”

He smiled—a real, true smile that folded dimples into his cheeks—and Rey felt proud of managing to get that reaction out of him. “Only if you aren’t tone deaf.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect.” She smiled back at him. “Anyway, unless you tell me not to bother, I'm ordering you some pasta to soak up a little of that bourbon. The kitchen here actually does a decent carbonara, how does that sound?”

He shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I’m not really hungry, but you’re right—I should eat something.”

Rey moved down the bar to punch in the order, and brought a set of cutlery and a glass of water with her when she came back. She arranged everything on the bar in front of him. 

“Thanks.” He drank half the glass at once, and she covertly watched his throat move and the way he licked his lips when he was done. “I needed that.” 

“A hangover won’t make whatever’s happening easier to deal with in the morning.” 

“Good point.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes again, the muscles in his broad shoulders straining the seams of his sleeves.

“I’m Rey.” 

“Oh.” He blinked at her, but the unhappy furrows in his brow didn’t smooth out this time. “Nice to meet you, Rey. I’m Ben.”

“You need something to distract you, Ben. Change of topic: what’s your favourite place to be?”

“Right now? Here.”

Rey scoffed, trying to hide her smile. “That’s pathetic, but also smooth.” 

“It’s still true. I’m sort of… stuck right now. I didn't like where I was, but I’m nervous about where I’m headed.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I was thinking less existential, more literal. Like, my favourite place to be is this park near my apartment building. It’s tiny and not very well-kept, but there’s this one bench next to a little fountain, and I can just sit there and listen to the water.”

“Okay.” He leaned back on the bar stool and tipped his head up to the ceiling, thinking. “Then I guess my favourite place isn’t exactly a place, but something to do. When I’m running and I get into that zone where it feels like I could just keep going forever.”

With that body, of course he was an exercise junkie. She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t understand that, but I respect it.”

Rey could’ve left it at that, moved down the bar and left Ben to his own devices, but something about him called to her. It was probably the loneliness she could sense coming off him in waves; there was a recognition of kinship when one solitary person met another, and Rey knew what it was like to be lonely. They chatted aimlessly for a few more minutes, about the hidden corners of the city like her favourite park. Rey found herself watching the movement of his expressive mouth as he talked, and wondering how he’d kiss. 

Ben’s carbonara arrived, and she set the heavy bowl down in front of him just as Finn called to her from the other end of the bar. She threw another quick smile at Ben. “I’ll be back.”

She sidled over to Finn’s station, where he was busy shaking a martini. “What’s up?”

“Deliver this to table ten for me, and then you can call it a night.” 

Rey looked out across the lounge. While she’d been distracted talking to Ben, most of the remaining tables had cleared out. Other than Ben, another loner at Finn’s end of the bar, and the martini drinking couple at table ten, the place was empty. “You sure you don’t mind?” she asked.

“Nah, just set the tables for brunch service tomorrow and we’re good.” Finn winked at her. “And check my pocket.” He bumped her with his right hip as he bent over to grab two chilled martini glasses from the cooler and she wormed her hand into the pocket of his very snug-fitting jeans. 

A telltale crinkle warned her what she was about to pull out of there. She pinched the condom between her fingertips and raised an eyebrow at Finn. “Really?” 

He raised an eyebrow right back at her. “Don’t tell me that’s not where this is going. I’m not blind. And I’m guessing you don’t have one on you. Lemon twists, please.”

Rey stuck the condom in her vest pocket, grabbed a couple of strips of peel and garnished the glasses for him. She considered lying to Finn, but what was the point? He knew her too well, and he’d cover for her. “Okay, fine, I was thinking about it. But you know the policy…”

They’d given her the lecture when she was hired: no sleeping with hotel customers. That was grounds for instant dismissal. People still broke the rule, of course, and mostly got away with it, but Rey had never been tempted before. 

Finn shook his head, pouring the icy cocktail from the shaker into the glasses. “Rob’s gone home. Change out of the uni first and you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Finn.” She kissed him on the cheek, grabbed a tray, and set the martinis on it. After dropping them off, she circled her side of the bar again and returned to Ben. He was staring gloomily at his plate, but at least some of the pasta had disappeared. 

He looked up when she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar, making sure to give him the most impressive possible view of her (not very abundant) cleavage. “So I get off in about ten minutes. And I was going to suggest that you might want to head up to your room. It’s late.” She tilted her head toward him, lowering her voice to a murmur. “Maybe I could check in on you. Make sure you’re going to be okay.” 

“What? Wouldn’t your boyfriend object?”

“Who?” Rey followed his gaze over to the other side of the bar, where Finn was rolling silverware in napkins for tomorrow’s brunch service. “He’s a good friend, but he’s not my boyfriend.” 

Ben looked at his phone again, but it was silent and dark. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I really shouldn’t drag anyone else into my problems…”

“Hey.” She covered his hand with hers, after taking a swift look around in case Rob had suddenly reappeared in the bar. “This doesn’t have to be anything that will weigh you down. I offered because I haven’t had any fun in what feels like years, and you seem like a decent guy who needs some fun too. We keep it light, we enjoy ourselves for a few hours, and say goodbye. That’s all it has to be.”

He snorted when she called him a decent guy, but didn’t say anything else until she finished talking. “Fun, eh?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m hilarious.”

He brushed his fingertips over hers and the electrical thrill it sent up her arm confirmed that this was one of the better ideas she’d had in a long time. One night to forget all her problems seemed like a godsend right now. “You can put the tab on room 1508. Whether you want to come up in a little while… that’s up to you. If you change your mind, I won’t be upset.”

Rey printed off the bill and set it on the bar. “Room 1508,” she repeated as Ben scribbled his signature at the bottom. “I’ll see you once I change out of this fabulous ensemble.” She swept her hand down over the bar uniform all the cocktail waitresses wore: a skinny black pencil skirt and sleeveless charcoal vest with a deep V. Both were cut so tight that Rey could barely take a full breath. 

“It has its charms,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice running up her spine and making her shiver. He ran his thumb across the inside of her wrist and left, striding across the bar without looking back. 

Rey finished setting up for brunch in record time and ducked into the bathroom to change into her street clothes. For a moment, she wished she’d worn something more exciting than a casual, daisy-patterned wrap dress—but she didn’t own any clothes elegant enough to compare to his suit anyway. She brushed her hair quickly, splashed water on her cheeks, and thought about putting lipstick on but decided not to bother. If things went the way she hoped, it would just end up smeared. 

“Be careful,” Finn called as she swept through the bar. “Text me if you need anything.” 

Rey stood in front of the door marked 1508, smoothing her flowing skirt down over her thighs, and gathered her courage to knock—three soft taps.

For a few minutes, nothing happened. As she waited, Rey’s gut began to twist with anxious embarrassment. He’d decided he didn’t want her, or he’d given her the wrong room number just to get rid of her... She pressed her lips together hard and turned on her heel to leave.

The lock clicked and she turned her head to see Ben’s body framed in the open door. “Rey?” he said a little breathlessly in that deep, soft voice. “I didn’t think you were coming.” He sounded half-awake. His hair was tousled and his shirt rumpled; he’d already taken off his tie and rolled up his sleeves, and at the sight of his muscled forearms her mouth went dry.

She clutched her purse tighter in front of her. “It took a little longer than I thought it would to finish up.” 

He smiled at her, and opened the door wide. 

Once inside, Rey felt strangely at ease, considering she was alone in a hotel room with a stranger. The air between them was charged with a sensual, tingling spark that made her feel electrified with anticipation and unafraid.

Ben put his hand on the door of the mini fridge. “Would you like a drink?”

She shook her head. “Not at those prices.” 

He kept smiling incredulously at her as though he couldn’t believe she were there, and an affectionate warmth welled up in her at the sight of his surprise. She stepped forward, took his face in her hands to pull his head down to her, and kissed him.

He was startled for a moment, his breath caught and his lips frozen against hers. But then his arms clamped around her and his mouth moved over hers hungrily. The strength of his body tempted her to leap up and let him carry her weight—so she did. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she clung to his shoulders and kept kissing him, loving the way his hands immediately slid under her ass, supporting and holding her up. She tightened her legs around him and rolled her hips into his, hearing her breath start to rush harder through her lungs. 

The heat of his mouth travelled to her jaw and then dragged down her throat as she threw her head back. He traced the neckline of her dress teasingly, drawing slick lines and arcs over her skin and raising goosebumps in its wake. She squirmed in his grasp, mindlessly trying to shimmy her dress farther down and get his mouth on her breasts. He gripped her harder as she began to slip out of his arms, but Rey had just realized that this position had its drawbacks for getting both of them naked. She let her legs slither down his thighs until she was standing on her tiptoes, still holding his head to her chest with her hands buried in his incredibly soft and silky hair. But now that she didn’t have to hold herself up, her hands could go to his waist, working to get his belt undone. 

Inspiration hit: it would be faster to get herself out of her clothes first. She yanked at her knotted belt and then the interior tie that held her wrap dress closed. It fell apart, revealing a column of her pale skin and the bright teal blue of her bra. Rey blessed her choice of underwear this morning, even though it had been based on her laundry rotation, not on trying to look sexy. 

Ben’s reaction was satisfyingly reverent. He gasped against her skin and his hands were immediately drawn to her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples through the satin. Rey arched up into his touch and whimpered. His fingers didn’t stay where she wanted them, though, they trailed feather-light down her sides and stopped at the edge of her underwear. That was far more utilitarian, and Rey just wanted it off as soon as possible... but also, Ben was still about ninety percent more dressed than she was, and that was wrong. 

She decided to tackle his shirt first, fumbling with the buttons and jerking at his collar to get it off his massive shoulders. Ben let her while he dipped his thumbs under the elastic of her panties and slid them down off her hips. 

She stepped out of them impatiently, thinking about getting his pants off next, but Ben had other ideas. He turned her around with a hand on her hip and lifted her hair to kiss her neck. She leaned back into him, feeling his eager hardness press against her. He groaned and tugged her dress down and down until it hung from her elbows. 

As the fabric slid down her back, he paused, and Rey knew he was staring at her back piece. It was big, and pretty ostentatious; it had taken a couple of sessions and more money than she really ought to have spent (even though the artist was an ex-army buddy of Finn’s, who gave her a hefty discount). But to Rey, tattoos were a symbol of independence: she’d gotten her first cheap flash piece—a small bird in flight—on her arm the day she turned eighteen and was able to leave Unkar Plutt’s foster home for good.

A few guys she’d slept with had been put off by it; a few thought it meant she was some kind of hardcore biker chick. She wondered which Ben would turn out to be. 

Slowly, he pulled her dress down the rest of the way and it slipped from her arms, falling to the floor. He ran his hands over her exposed back reverently, as though he were framing the art on her skin. Rey pulled her hair forward over her shoulder to give him a better look at the bright phoenix with feathers etched in skillfully dappled rainbow shades, rising from flames that started halfway down her back. Its beak was open in a fierce expression and its outspread wings stretched from her shoulder blades to her ribs. 

“What does it mean?” he asked, his voice soft as he traced a fingertip over the head of the phoenix just below the nape of her neck.

She smiled to herself. Another good sign. “I had kind of a… rough childhood, you might say. This is to remind me that I can rise above it.”

“It’s beautiful. And inspiring.” His hands—god, they were huge—spread over her sides, warm and rough. His lips touched the top of her spine, and she shivered as he began to paint kisses over the span of the phoenix's wings. 

Rey twisted in his arms and pulled his head down to hers for another kiss. She spread her hands wide across his neck and his broad shoulder blades, feeling the muscles there tense as she stepped backward over her discarded clothes and towed him toward the king-size bed. She laid back, glorying in the feel of the cool, smooth duvet cover on her naked skin, stretching her arms overhead and smiling playfully up at him. He smirked back at her, and she stretched her leg out to skim her toes over the ridge of the erection straining the fabric of his underwear. “You talk a good game, Ben, but I think you need to show me what you’ve got.” 

The next instant his devouring mouth was on her, licking and sucking and biting gently along her inner thigh. A noise that was almost a scream escaped her and she wrapped her legs around Ben’s broad back to keep him where he was. When she pinned her heel between his shoulderblades for purchase, pushing herself greedily into his lips, needing more contact, he groaned against her skin. 

She panted for breath, her rushing pulse loud in her own ears, her hands flexing uselessly in the duvet, clawing for purchase. Rey didn’t do this, she didn’t have sex with complete strangers, she didn’t do it at work where she could get fired for it, and she didn’t let one night stands go down on her. But every single one of these rules had vanished from her head and all she knew was the sensation of Ben’s mouth pressing hot and wet over her, into her, his tongue flickering against her, his hands holding her thighs apart—

“Do you want my finger?” he asked. 

All Rey could do was make a choked cry intended as a yes. He slipped one broad fingertip along her folds—fuck, she was so wet—circled it gently over her sensitive clit until she moaned, and then pushed it slowly inside her as his mouth went back to soft licks and strokes. God, this was good, it was so good, but she wanted more: she wanted to feel him filling her completely. She flung one hand down and yanked at his hair, pulling his head up.

“Get up here and fuck me,” she said, her voice hoarse with want. 

“Shit. Rey, I’m sorry.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked up at her a little sheepishly. She tensed, waiting for the other shoe to drop. What was he going to confess? “I don’t have any condoms.”

Rey grinned up at him, feeling brilliantly smug. “That’s okay, I do.” 

It took a while for her to be able to stand up and fetch it from her purse, though, because Ben started kissing her again as soon as she sat up. And then she had to touch him, explore the planes of his body, stroke the velvet skin of his cock and the coarse hair on his thighs… eventually, though, she twisted away, found her bag where she’d dropped it by the door and fished out the little foil packet Finn had passed to her, holding it up triumphantly as she walked back to the bed. “Just one, though.”

“In that case…” He sank to his knees beside the bed again. “Let me taste you again.”

He kissed his way slowly down her body, lavishing attention on the small curves of her breasts, cupping and squeezing them, covering them with his huge hands until her nipples ached. When he took almost her whole breast into his mouth and sucked, Rey whined and her hips bucked uncontrollably.

“Be patient, I’m getting there.” He flicked her nipples with his thumbs, pinched both at once as he sucked hard on her clit and the sizzling current of pleasure connecting the three points on her body made Rey’s spine stiffen and bow as she came. 

When she could see again, she blinked slowly up at the ceiling while she caught her breath. Ben had moved up to lie beside her and was leaning on one elbow, playing with a strand of hair that had fallen over her breast. She looked at his shoulder and reached out to pull him closer, curling into his big, sheltering frame. His erection pressed into her thigh but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get her to reciprocate. He just wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head under his chin. 

“You’re amazing, Rey.”

She made a dismissive noise in her throat. That was his boner talking. 

“I mean it.” He kissed the top of her head, her cheek, her throat, and down between her breasts, his chin rasping pleasantly at her skin. “You are.”

She twisted her fingers into his thick hair and pulled his head back up to kiss him, partly out of a desire to shut him up and partly because it was breathtaking to hear someone talk about her that way. It was meaningless; he didn’t even know her, but it was kind and well-meant and it was making her ridiculously emotional. He rolled onto his back and she moved with him, pushing her hips against his and arching back into his strong grip. With one hand she fumbled blindly across the nightstand for the foil square, grabbing it and sitting up. Ben hissed in pain or pleasure as her weight settled more firmly on his cock, and she ground down on him again as she ripped the package open before moving back enough to let her take him in hand and roll the slick condom on him. His hips jerked into her grip once, twice, and she leaned down to kiss him soothingly. He was big, and she wanted to feel him stretch her, fill her, move inside her until she forgot everything but her body.

She told him that, whispering into his ear, and was rewarded with a primal growl as he grabbed her hips and thrust up into her so deep that she cried out. Carried away on the strength of him beneath her, she threw her head back and abandoned thought, letting herself feel. 

Rey woke to the faint chime of her regular morning alarm, the rippling bells that were supposed to be soothing. She rolled over and fumbled for her phone on the night table, swiping her thumb to turn it off. The silent room and the cool temperature of the sheets told her Ben had gone even before she rolled over to see an empty bed. She hadn’t expected anything else, but part of her still felt disappointed at his absence. It would’ve been pleasant to wake up next to his furnace of body heat, maybe even in his arms.

On the other hand, avoiding the morning after awkwardness was probably a better idea for both of them. 

She sat up, blinked, and stretched her arms overhead with a long sigh. A folded sheet of paper slipped off of the pillow next to her. A note? She grabbed it and held it out to read in the dim light filtering through the sheer curtains.

> _Dear Rey,  
>  Thank you for last night. It was the kindest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. _

The beginning of another sentence was scribbled out here, but no matter how hard Rey squinted at the words she couldn't tell what they’d been.

> _I hope you stay and enjoy the high thread count. I’ve arranged for a late check out and breakfast at 10 am.  
>  Take care,  
>  Ben_

That was sweet, in an old-fashioned kind of way. Rey lay down and stretched again, her limbs sweeping over the firm mattress and the smooth coolness of the sheets. It was tempting to roll over, curl around the down pillows, and go back to sleep. But that wouldn’t do her any good. She picked up the phone and cancelled the room service order. She had to get home and do her laundry today before showing up for tonight’s shift.

At least she got to have a long shower with decent water pressure and all the hot water she wanted. Plus the little bottles of rose-scented toiletries she stuffed in her purse. She stuck the note in there too, telling herself it was better to throw it out at her apartment than leave it for the maid to find. Keeping it just as proof of a tiny moment of connection would be truly pathetic.

On the way down in the elevator Rey checked her phone for texts from Finn—nothing—and started calculating how much she could reasonably expect to make in tips tonight. It was Thursday, so more people ought to be in the bar. Last night had been a bust, work-wise, since it was so slow she’d spent most of her time talking to Ben. If she didn’t have a better weekend, it would be ramen and peanut butter time for the next couple of trips to the grocery store. 

When the doors rumbled open, she stepped out briskly, already thinking about whether she could justify picking up a breakfast sandwich at the corner greasy spoon a few blocks away. But her daydreams of greasy bacon hit a roadblock: Rob was standing in the middle of the lobby. 

For a fleeting instant, Rey considered ducking back into the elevator and trying to hide. But he’d already seen her; he was staring directly at her. And she had too much pride to put off the inevitable. So she put her shoulders back, flicked her hair over one shoulder and walked straight up to him.

“Rey…” He shook his head slowly. “I hope it was worth it. You know the corporate policy. If you make it this obvious, I don’t have any choice. Unless you have some miraculous excuse?” 

He looked hopefully at her, but her wet hair, last night’s clothes, and the uniform crammed in her bag all combined to make it obvious how ridiculous that was. “You’re a good bartender, I don’t want to fire you—”

Rey shrugged. “I’ll make it easy for you then. I quit.” She didn’t mind Rob, he was a good boss as things went, but she’d had enough of this place. She was a grown woman who needed to find a better job; she was tired of wearing slutty clothes to serve overpriced booze to corporate assholes. Other than working with Finn, there was nothing about the Hotel Galaxy that she’d miss. 

She stuck her hand into the centre of her balled-up uniform and fished out her employee access card, slapping it into Rob’s chest. “Have a nice life, Rob.” She strode across the lobby, holding her chin high and setting her feet down hard just for the pleasure of hearing her sandals snap on the marble floor. 

Not wanting to spoil her dignified exit, she didn’t pull her phone out until after she’d made it through the sliding doors. But as soon as she’d turned toward the end of the block and passed by the windows of the front lobby, she pulled out her phone to text Finn.  
_guess who has two thumbs and no job at the Galaxy anymore_

He responded almost instantly with a string of exclamation points, cry-laughing emojis, and then: _damn! so was Room 1508 worth it?_

Rey could feel the smile creasing her face as she texted him back: _you know, I’d say he was_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: brief discussion of abortion and some common side effects of pregnancy (i.e. nausea & vomiting)

The words on the screen blurred and shifted, vibrating fuzzily in Ben’s tired vision. He rubbed his eyes and reached for the coffee on his desk, but it was ice-cold and sour. He barely managed to choke the mouthful down instead of spitting it back into the mug.

Blinking, he sat back and looked for something to focus on other than his laptop. There wasn’t much other than the wall a few feet away: his cramped office in the campaign’s storefront headquarters was barely big enough to hold his desk and a couple of chairs for when he really needed to take a meeting in private. 

His spine cracked and popped as he stretched, and at the same moment his stomach reminded him of its empty existence by growling. He needed food and another set of eyes on this stupid thing. “Poe?” he called. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” a voice floated back. “You still alive?”

“Barely.” Ben stood up and stretched until his fingertips brushed the low ceiling tiles, his spine crackling like fireworks going off. He grabbed his laptop and headed down the short hall into the open office area.

It was long after official campaign hours. The blinds over the front windows were pulled down and the door locked. Poe Dameron was bent low over a sheaf of computer-generated addresses, highlighting selected lines. A glowing cone from one desk lamp was his only source of light; at this angle, it illuminated more than a few silver threads in his dark hair. 

“You’re starting to go grey, old man,” Ben remarked.

Poe raised a hand without looking up and flipped him the bird. “Thanks to you and your family.”

“I’ll get you a box of Just for Men for your birthday.” Ben set the laptop down on the corner of Poe’s desk and went over to the mini-fridge against the wall. He pulled out two sweating cans of beer and wiggled one at Poe. When he nodded, Ben tossed him the can before sitting down in the closest plastic folding chair with his legs stretched out long in front of him. “Read that and tell me if it’s going to persuade anyone other than you to vote for me.”

“What about Rose?” Poe popped the beer open and drank before pulling the laptop closer to him and setting it on top of his pile of papers.

“I already know there’s no way I’m getting her vote.”

Poe snorted a gruff laugh. His eyes flickered back and forth as he skimmed Ben’s speech, tabbing down through the text. “First of all, it’s too long. Anything over five minutes at this event is a waste of time—yours and, more importantly, theirs.”

“I know, I know,” Ben groaned. He took a long swallow of his beer and like clockwork, as they did every time he had a drink in the past month, his thoughts returned to Rey. 

Where was she tonight? Back working at the Hotel Galaxy? Part of him wished he could get on a plane, fly back there and beg her to spend another night with him. But that was never going to happen. Even if it was a good idea for someone in the midst of a Senate election campaign to have a long distance relationship with a bartender, she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in anything but a one-night stand. He should be grateful for what he’d had; she’d taken pity on him and then somehow transmuted that into one of the most meaningful experiences he’d ever shared. He just hoped that he’d somehow given her a little bit of comfort in return.

“Other than that, it’s not bad.” Poe’s grudging approval jolted Ben back to what he ought to be focusing on—getting elected. 

“Cheers.” He raised his beer and he and Poe tapped their cans together with a hollow clank. 

“Still needs a lot of work,” Poe warned him. 

“Whatever.” Ben made a dismissive gesture, nearly slopping beer over his hand.

Poe sat back in the creaking chair and folded his hands over his stomach, tilting his head to eye Ben speculatively. “What’s up? You’ve been acting weird, even for you, ever since you got back from Chicago.”

“You don’t think there’s any reason for me to be a little off?” Ben demanded. “After being called back to my mother’s deathbed this spring so that she could give me my marching orders? And tearing down my whole life in Chicago just to try and take her place out here?”

“Always with the dramatics, Solo.” Poe rolled his eyes. “You cut ties with Snoke all by yourself last year. That’s why she decided to ask you to run in her place. She talked to me about it at the time.”

Ben swallowed back an unfamiliar feeling of pride. “I figured it was because I was her only child, and she couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her family’s political legacy vanish. And I still have no idea why she didn’t ask you first.”

“Because she knew I’d turn her down,” Poe said calmly. “I don’t have any interest in running for office. I’d rather be the one behind the scenes getting shit done.”

“Pulling the strings, you mean.”

Poe didn’t rise to the bait. “Nice deflection, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

Ben finished the rest of his beer in one swallow. “There was someone,” he found himself saying. “A woman.” 

“Oh-hoh.” Poe sat up and raised both eyebrows. “What’s the problem? Is she not interested in being a politician’s wife?”

Ben’s laugh was a short, harsh bark. He got up and went back to the fridge—if he was going to talk about Rey, even in vague terms, he definitely needed another beer. “It was a one-night stand. I don’t even know her last name, but she was a bartender with tattoos and a past. Trust me, you couldn't find someone less suitable for the position.”

“Aw, Ben…” Poe rubbed the bridge of his nose before reaching for his own still half-full beer. “Don’t do this to me, man. This campaign is precarious enough without a sex scandal.”

“What scandal? We were two sober, consenting adults, and I used a condom. Besides, it was thousands of miles away from here and she didn’t know me from Adam.”

“That’s what you think. I can’t believe I need to have the talk with you, Ben, but single politicians can’t do that kind of thing. You either find a spouse or you keep it in your pants.”

Ben scowled. Poe was one to talk; he’d dated his way through most of their class by the time the two of them graduated from high school, and judging from what Ben saw, he hadn’t slowed down any now. “Well, how am I supposed to get married if I can’t date?”

“You should’ve thought of that before you decided to run for public office.” Poe closed Ben’s laptop and pushed it aside. He leaned forward in his chair, propping his elbows on his knees. and stared at Ben. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’m serious. A photo of an innocent date from the wrong angle and you’d be sunk. And at this point, in the middle of a campaign, we can’t even be sure that anyone you went out with wasn’t some kind of oppo plant. We’d have to vet them all.”

Ben laughed again. “I think you overestimate the potential for a honey trap, Dameron. You’ve been watching too much _House of Cards_. And it’s not an issue. I don’t have any desire to be in a relationship right now.”

“It’s still a good thing for politicians to be married. Makes them seem stable, relatable. Especially someone with your... past issues.” Poe gestured delicately between them in a way that was probably supposed to indicate Ben’s infamous temper. “We should get you out there to meet a few people. After the election.”

Ben couldn’t think of anything less likely to result in a tolerable date than being set up with the kind of people Poe Dameron would consider suitable candidates for political spouses. “Forget about it. I’ll probably lose anyway, so it’s irrelevant. I can find a date for myself after that.”

“That’s the spirit!” Poe laughed. “There’s the Ben Solo optimism I remember.”

Rey’s head ached and she felt dizzy even though she was lying down. She blinked, and tried to touch the hot, throbbing side of her skull. Her arm felt weak and her muscles only twitched instead of obeying her, but before she could try again, someone grabbed her hand and held on tight. “Rey. What the hell’s going on?”

“Finn?” She squinted, and the fuzzy brown oval in front of her eyes resolved into his familiar features. “What happened?”

“I came straight home after my shift because I was worried about you. You didn’t answer my text asking if you wanted anything from the brunch buffet.” He squeezed her hand. 

Rey cringed, turning her head away and swallowing back a sour swell of nausea at the thought of eating greasy leftovers. 

“And then I found you out cold on the bathroom floor. I nearly called 911, but you woke halfway up and I was able to get you over to the couch. Should I call an ambulance now?”

“No,” she barked, setting off another bubble of nausea in her throat. “I can’t afford that right now.” 

She struggled to rise to her elbows even with Finn sliding an arm around her back to support her. But once she was sitting up, the sickness subsided a little. She asked Finn for water and he brought her a glass from the kitchen; she held its cold surface to her clammy forehead before downing it.

Rey hadn’t been up to anything the past few days but lying in bed and scrolling through job listings. With no car, most of the gig apps were no use to her. She’d gone on a few interviews for more bartending jobs, but at this time of year, with all the university students working full time hours at their summer jobs, it was slim pickings. And who knew how much longer she’d be able to work...

“You need to tell me what’s going on,” Finn said as soon as she set down the empty glass. “You’ve been acting a bit off for a while now. And frankly, you look like shit.” He eyed her critically. “Have you lost weight?”

“A little,” Rey said. She tugged a throw pillow into her lap and hugged it, picking at its frayed piping. “It’ll pass. I’ve just been under the weather lately.”

Finn didn’t say anything, and the silence sounded ringingly loud. She glanced up and found him staring at her with his mouth half-open and a look on his face as though a brick had fallen on his head and he was the one about to pass out.

“You’re pregnant.” It was a statement, not a question. “Holy shit, Rey, how did that happen?”

“How do you think, Finn?” she snapped. “I had sex. Using a condom that you gave me!” 

She hadn’t meant for that to come out so accusatory. But it was the truth. She trusted Finn, she knew he’d only been trying to protect her, but she’d spent the past two weeks, ever since two lines had come up on the cheap pregnancy test, wishing she’d gone out and bought her own damn condom instead of taking his. 

On the other hand, maybe that one would’ve failed too. Maybe it was just her incredibly bad luck—there was no way of knowing.

“Oh my god, Rey, I’m so sorry.” Finn put his arm around her and pulled her into his side. “You mean it was that guy from the bar? The one…”

“The one I got fired for,” Rey agreed weakly. “As if that wasn’t enough, now I’m having his kid.”

Rey squeezed the pillow tighter and closed her eyes, thinking about Ben. She didn’t regret that night, though she ought to. But that moment of connection had felt so real, she couldn’t bring herself to wish that she’d walked out of the bar after work that night and gone home instead of up to Ben’s room. She did regret that it had happened now, when she had no job, no partner and no family to support her. Still...

“I can’t give it up, Finn. I just can’t.” Her voice was raw and she blinked to keep the tears at bay. “There’s no way I’d let a child of mine go. You know that.”

“Of course I do.” Finn hugged her a little tighter. It was only the two of them finding each other in a group home at fifteen that had saved her—saved both of them. Rey and Finn had been through enough in the foster system that she’d die before letting any child of hers go into it. Even when the caregivers were good people, it was far too easy for kids with any kind of problem to disappear into the gaping cracks.

“And I know it makes the most sense to have an abortion, but…” She gulped in two deep breaths. “I feel like this is the universe giving me a chance to fix things. I know I can be a good mother, if I just have a chance.” 

“Kids need money,” Finn said, brutally firm. “You’re a great person, Rey, and I know you’ll be a great mom whenever it’s time. But this baby is going to need more than love. Have you tried contacting the dude? Let him know there’s a bundle of joy on the way and hey, how about some child support?”

“How? It’s not like I got his number!” She threw her hand out in an angry arc, knocking the pillow to the floor. “I don’t even know his last name. And he was moving out of town anyway. He told me he was just staying at the hotel for a few days because his lease had run out. By now he could be literally anywhere in the world.”

Finn sighed and leaned his cheek on the top of her head, pressing his lips to her hair. “Okay. We’ll figure something out. But in the meantime, you should go and see a doctor.”

“I went to the clinic on Thursday. The nurse practitioner there was really nice. She said I probably just had bad morning sickness, but that it might turn into something called hyperemesis and if I lost more than eight pounds I should come back.” 

“Well, have you?”

“I don’t know, Finn, we don’t have a scale.” She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s never been a priority.”

“Alright then. First things first, I’m going to make you dinner. And then I’m going out to buy a scale, so you can keep track of your weight.” He pulled away and scanned her over, lingering on her stomach even though Rey knew perfectly well there was no sign of any bump there yet. “You do look skinnier. I don’t like it. Is there anything you can eat right now? What makes you throw up?”

“Everything,” she moaned pathetically. “Soup is okay, mostly—but it has to be ultra bland, just broth and noodles.”

Finn made a face. “I hate the thought of cooking something that boring, but for you...” He stood up and pulled Rey to her feet with him, hugging her again when she was upright. Head spinning, Rey rested against Finn’s firm, reliable presence and felt marginally better.

“You know I’m here for you and whatever you decide. I’ll be here for the kid, too. But both of you deserve more from that asshole. He sure looked like he could afford to pay child support.”

“Drop it, Finn. Please. I don’t want to talk about it any more.” 

Rey felt panic well up in her chest again, making it hard to breathe. Finn might want to help her, but she’d fought so hard for her independence. She couldn’t trust anyone else that much. Even if she managed to track Ben down, once he found out about his kid, what would he do? Maybe he’d just shrug and send her monthly cheques, but nothing in Rey’s life so far had prepared her to expect such a positive reaction. It was much more likely he’d refuse to believe it was his, in which case she’d be no better off and at least no worse. But the possibility that terrified her was—what if he wanted to take the baby away from her? An unemployed single mother with a history of foster care, up against someone rich enough to afford to stay at the Hotel Galaxy: that would look like an open and shut case to any social worker Rey had ever known. 

No. There was no way Rey would risk Ben finding out about this child and deciding that she didn’t deserve to keep it.

“It’s just not right,” Finn grumbled. “But fine.” 

So far, this had been one of the most depressing days of Ben’s year. The day his mother died was still way out in front, of course, but today was running a close third to when he’d learned the governor had appointed Hux to fill her seat. 

After the satisfaction of finally getting a thumbs up from Poe on his campaign launch speech, the actual event had gone much worse than he’d hoped. Education reform had always been one of Leia’s main platforms, and Ben wanted to carry that forward, so they’d chosen a local school as the venue to make the announcement. Poe and Rose had done their usual stellar job, so the advance arrangements went smoothly: a small but supportive crowd gathered to applaud his speech, and for about thirty seconds Ben had actually felt optimistic about his chances. 

And then the media had started in on him. Poe had coached Ben relentlessly on how to answer, and tried to encourage softball questions from a few of the reporters he was on friendly terms with. So the first couple of ones about why he was running now he could field easily with the talking points Poe had beaten into him. But then O’Reilly, who was in Hux’s pocket and had had it in for Leia since the days when she was a city councillor, asked him point blank why he was trying to pick up his mother’s failed legacy, and what made him think a lawyer from Chicago who hadn’t lived in Washington since he was a teenager deserved to represent the people of this fine state? “A man with no political or governing experience, all you have to lean on is an empty name—“ 

Ben saw red. He ignored Poe moving to step in front of him and leaned closer to the microphone, staring directly back at O’Reilly. “It’s not an empty name,” he said through gritted teeth. “My mother’s name stands for something good in this state, and I intend to carry it forward. But I don’t expect anyone to vote for me because of who my family was. All I can do is present my platform and ask the voters to give me a fair chance based on it.”

Poe shoved him aside to get to the microphone and announced that they were no longer taking questions. Rose cut Ben away from the herd of reporters like a protective sheepdog and swept him off to the waiting car. As soon as Poe threw himself into the passenger seat Mitaka, the driver, took off. 

“Well, that was an impressive debut,” Rose said with more salt in her tone than the Red Sea. 

Poe shrugged. “Could be worse. We knew we’d have to field that question sooner or later. At least now it’s been asked and answered.”

“They’ll keep at it,” Ben said morosely. His phone vibrated again—it had been buzzing for the last ten minutes, thank god he’d remembered to set it on silent before the event—and he fumbled it out of his suit’s inside pocket without checking to see who was calling. 

“Am I speaking to Benjamin Solo?” a deep voice asked, curt and clipped. It was no-one Ben recognized. Had he forgotten about a phone interview? No, Poe would’ve reminded him if there was one scheduled. 

“That depends,” Ben said. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Nice.” An unamused snort came through from the other end of the line. “I was trying to come up with a gentler way to break the news, but you sound exactly like the kind of asshole who’d run out on a pregnant woman. Prove me wrong.”

“What?” Ben took the phone away from his ear for a second to check the screen, but all it displayed was an unfamiliar long-distance number. “Is this a joke?”

Maybe some people got their kicks from cold-calling strangers to accuse them of knocking women up? It seemed like a weird sort of prank, but kids did bizarre things these days.

“It’s not funny at all, shithead. Remember staying at the Hotel Galaxy last month? Does the name Rey ring a bell?”

Oh, fuck. Ben felt the sky crash down around his head, together with his election campaign and all his hopes of not being a total screwup. He’d tucked that night away in his memory as one of the few truly sweet and uncomplicated things in his life—and now it was ruined. He should have known that it was too good to be true. 

“I don’t know who the hell you are, or how much you think you’re going to make out of this,” he snarled into the phone. “But you can tell Hux that it’ll be a cold day in hell before I ever give in to someone trying to blackmail me!” His voice rose to a shout, painfully loud in the closed car. Everyone was staring at him, including Mitaka in the rear view mirror. Poe reached over and buzzed the partition up, but that was probably too little too late.

“Listen, asshole, I don’t know any Hux. And Rey isn’t interested in blackmail. She didn’t even want to find you because she’s too proud to ask for help and because she actually believed you were a good guy.” The other man sounded as angry as Ben. “Imagine my surprise when I googled you and learned otherwise. But I don’t give a flying fuck how important you are, you need to step up and take responsibility for this kid. At least financially.”

And there it was: the money grab. Ben breathed in deep and kept his voice quiet with an inhuman effort. “I. Will. Never. Pay you off. Do your worst, I don’t care. If you want to play a smear game, I’m sure I can dig up all kinds of dirt on you and your little bartender friend. Think very hard before you start something you can’t win.”

Rose was staring at him with her eyes and mouth both wide open. Poe leaned through the gap in the seats and put a hand on Ben’s taut forearm, but he shrugged off the restraining grip. 

The stranger wasn’t easily intimidated. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, you psycho. All I want is for Rey to get what she deserves, which is not to have to worry about where her next meal is coming from while she’s carrying your child!” 

The other man’s voice was so loud now it carried through Ben’s phone into the car. He could see Rose and Poe grasp the situation. Poe covered his eyes with his hand and muttered, “Jesus Christ Almighty.”

“You have my number. Get your head around the fact that you’re going to be a father, and call me back with a plan for child support so I can tell Rey you’re going to be the decent guy she thought you were. If I don’t hear from you within twenty-four hours, I promise you’ll regret it.” The line went dead.

Ben squeezed his phone so hard the case popped off, bounced off his knee, and slid to the floor of the car. “Rose. Whatever we’ve got planned for the rest of the day and tomorrow, cancel it. I need to be on the next flight to Chicago.”

“Not alone. I’m coming with you,” Poe said grimly. “There are about a million ways for this to blow up in our faces, and I don’t trust you to handle it with any kind of tact.” He looked exhausted in the dim light filtered through the car’s tinted windows. “On the flight there you’re going to tell me everything, and I do mean everything, so I can figure out whether you have to drop out before this campaign even gets started.”

Ben shoved his phone back in his pocket and put his clenched fists on his knees, pressing them down hard to keep himself from punching the window out. Breaking his knuckles wouldn’t improve this situation.

Not much had been going right in Rey’s life lately, but today looked like it might set a record for the worst pile of shit shovelled on top of other shit. She hadn’t been able to eat any dinner last night, or breakfast this morning. Flat ginger ale was all she could keep down. Her whole body felt like she’d been run over by a truck; even her eyelashes hurt. But they were out of ginger ale, and Finn was at work, so she’d had to drag herself out of bed and out to the corner store to buy some more. 

She didn’t need to see herself in the security mirror behind the counter to know that she looked terrible, but her reflection was still a shock. Her hair hung lank and oily, and she was ghostly pale except for the dark circles under her eyes. Her sweatpants had seen better days, and it was obvious that under her thin t-shirt she wasn’t wearing a bra—she hadn’t bothered with one because her breasts were tender (a new and very uncomfortable development).

She glared at the cashier, silently daring him to comment. He must have had a decent sense of self-preservation since he just bagged her six pack of soda and handed it back to her with the receipt. 

Back outside on the street, Rey nearly gagged at the city’s overpowering burnt-oil miasma of exhaust. It had never bothered her before, but these days she couldn’t stand any strong odors. Breathing shallowly through her mouth, she set off down the street. She could see the front door of the apartment building from here, only halfway down the block—she could make it that far, even if she had to stop and hold in a dry heave along the way.

As she got closer she noticed a dark, expensive-looking SUV idling in front of the building. Maybe someone had called an Uber? She hated it when they left their engines running, even when the smell wasn’t about to make her puke. If she had more energy, she’d knock on the window and give the driver a piece of her mind, but right now it was all she could do to make it up the stairs to the front door. 

A car door thumped open. “Rey?”

Rey twitched and almost dropped the ginger ale; she did drop her door keys. Shit, bending over for those wasn’t going to be fun. Then she completely forgot about them, because she jerked around and saw that the man standing on the sidewalk who’d just called her name was—Ben. And he looked angry. 

Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t speak. She stood still as he stalked toward her, trailed by another man she’d never seen before. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, staring up at her with laser-burning focus. “We need to talk.”

Something about the way he scanned her body closely told him that he knew she was pregnant. And he was obviously not happy about it. Rey wanted to cry, or kick him in the shins. How the hell had he found out? And why was this happening when she could barely keep herself together? 

He bent to pick up her keys and handed them back to her, dropping them in her palm without touching her. “You should invite us in, unless you want to have this discussion on the street.”

Rey swallowed back bile, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She fumbled the door open and waved the two of them inside the tiny lobby. 

“Third floor,” she said. “No elevator.” She waved them ahead to take the stairs first; she didn’t want to go ahead of them. The thought of Ben staring at her ass now that she was nothing more to him than an inconvenient notch on his bedpost was infuriating. Plus it would’ve made her feel trapped. Trailing behind at the end of the procession, she could still tell herself that she had other options: she could refuse to let them into the apartment, decide to turn and run away. 

Run, when she could barely walk? And run where? She laughed silently to herself. They knew where she lived. She put her free hand protectively over her stomach as she climbed. This kid might be making her life hell right now with all the morning sickness, but at least it was feisty. If Ben was here to tell her to have an abortion, he could fuck right off. 

She held that spark of defiance inside, cherishing it, hoping it would sustain her through this meeting. She just had to be strong long enough to tell Ben to get lost.

Once the door to the apartment closed behind the three of them, that suddenly seemed a lot harder. She was alone, after all—Finn was at a happy hour shift—and the way the two of them looked around the tiny space made all of its inadequacies starkly evident. Even on two minimum wage jobs plus tips, a well-maintained apartment was more than Rey and Finn could afford. They’d done what they could to patch the walls, painted them a sunny yellow, found offcut rugs to cover up the scarred vinyl floor. Plants that Rey had managed to grow from the hotel’s discarded floral arrangements lined the windowsills in recycled glass jars. She’d told herself her home was cheap but cheerful; under Ben’s incisive gaze, it just looked cheap. 

Rey took her soda into the closet-sized kitchen and popped one can open with a hiss, pouring it into a glass so quickly the fizz almost overflowed the rim. Rude as it might be, she didn’t tell Ben and his friend to sit down or offer them anything. She didn’t want to give them so much as a glass of water. And the less excuse they had to stay for any length of time the better.

Fortified after a gulp of ginger ale, she turned to face the two of them, standing awkwardly elbow to elbow and still taking up most of the space in her tiny living room. “How did you find me?” she asked. “And what do you want?”

“Didn’t expect me to show up here, did you?” Ben’s hands clenched into fists by his side. “You’ve got a lot of gall asking me that. I’m only here because I got dragged into this by your friend. Tell me how much it’ll cost to make this go away, or I’ll make both of your lives hell.”

Rey’s vision blurred in angry disbelief and she could feel her blood boil through her veins like lava. “Get. Out.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Ben’s friend interrupted, holding his hands out in a “slow down” gesture. “I think there’s been a miscommunication here. Let’s rewind for a second.” He smiled disarmingly at Rey. “Hello, Rey. I’m Poe Dameron, and I’m managing Ben’s Senate campaign.”

His what? Rey closed her eyes and swore silently. It was her worst nightmare coming true: Ben was not only rich, but he had reason to want her and her kid out of the way. The furious strength of a moment ago drained out of her and she swayed on her feet. Both Ben and Poe darted forward, but Ben was closer and grabbed her arm first. 

“I’m fine.” She jerked out of his grip but sat down on the kitchen stool anyway. Falling over in a faint wouldn’t convince them she wasn’t a pushover. “Listen, I had no idea you were a politician. Maybe you don’t remember,” she glared at Ben, “but we didn’t exactly exchange names and phone numbers.”

“At least I didn’t lie to you. I’m sure Rey isn’t your real name,” he sneered.

How was that relevant? “It says Rachel on my birth certificate. But I’ve always gone by Rey.”

“Let’s not get sidetracked,” Dameron said. “I’d say there’s definitely been a misunderstanding. Someone called Ben and made—certain accusations, which he didn’t take that well. To be fair, it was very much unexpected.”

Rey snorted. “You’re telling me.”

“We used a condom,” Ben cut in, glaring back at her. “So how the hell did this happen?”

“Shit happened!” she yelled at him. “Like it often does, for those of us who don’t live charmed lives. I didn’t plan this, for god’s sake, so quit acting like I’m a gold digger.”

“Hold up,” Poe interrupted again, stepping in between them and holding up a hand. “We’re going to spell absolutely everything out here, because it’s too important to make any assumptions.” He looked directly at Rey. “You’re pregnant, correct?”

She nodded.

“And you believe it’s Ben’s child.”

“It is his,” she snapped. “He’s the only person I’ve slept with in months.” More like a year, but they didn’t need to know that. 

“But you didn’t have any means to contact him and weren’t planning to.”

She shrugged and looked down at the scuffed floor beneath her feet. “I might have thought about it… but I didn’t know his last name. And I figured it didn’t matter anyway, because I’m keeping this kid. No one’s taking it away from me, and I’m not having an abortion.”

“No one said you were.” Poe said soothingly. 

“Isn’t that why you’re here? To try and talk me into getting rid of this baby so you don’t have to worry about a bastard showing up on his doorstep years later?”

“I’m here to try and keep Ben from doing anything stupid. Coercing you into an abortion would be extremely stupid, not to mention unethical. I’m not entirely sure why Ben is here. If you want to know that, you'll have to ask him.”

Both she and Poe turned to look at Ben, who hunched his shoulders up to his ears under their scrutiny. “I was angry! I thought this was a scam you and your friend had concocted to get money out of me. I hoped you’d back off if I confronted you.”

“It’s not a scam. I never intended to drag you into this. I didn’t.” Rey bit her lip hard, trying to ensure she wouldn’t start crying. Even Ben, who’d seemed so kind and empathetic that night—even he looked down on her. She tried to think, to figure out how they’d ended up here. 

“Finn was working that night,” she said slowly. “He knew your room number from the bill. He must’ve convinced one of the desk clerks to call up your reservation and learned your name and phone number that way.”

“Enterprising,” Poe remarked.

“Illegal,” Ben growled. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Rey was angry, but exhausted; she didn’t have the energy to fight with Ben (or Finn, for that matter) right now. All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed, pull the covers over her head and ignore this whole mess. “The point is I didn’t tell Finn to call you—he did that all on his own. He’s like a brother to me, and sometimes he gets a little overprotective. But I don’t want anything from you, and you don’t owe me or this baby anything. If you want me to sign some kind of legal papers, I will.”

“Now wait a minute—”  
“That’s not what I—”  
Ben and Poe talked at once, their words overlapping and jumbling, and at that moment the doorknob rattled and Finn walked in. 

“Hey, Rey, did you see that asshole taking up two spots in the loading zone—oh.” His gaze scanned back and forth between the three people in the room, arranged in a tense equilateral triangle like the diagram of a gunslingers’ standoff. He dropped his backpack by the door and went to stand behind Rey, resting his hands on her shoulders with an encouraging squeeze. For an instant, she felt boosted by his presence in her corner, and then she remembered he’d been the one to create this situation by going behind her back to find Ben. Still, his heart had been in the right place. 

“Anything you want to tell me, Finn?” she asked through dry lips. “I hear you’ve been busy.” 

Finn squeezed her shoulders again. “Someone needed to find him, Rey. You weren’t going to, and you need help.”

Ben took a jerky half-step forward and stopped. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“She doesn’t have medical insurance and she’s not well,” Finn said over Rey’s sound of protest.

“I’m fine, it’s just morning sickness,” she said dismissively.

Ben looked closely at her. “I don’t know, you look terrible. Have you seen a doctor?”

“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes at him. “And the doctor said not to worry unless I lost a significant amount of weight.”

“Which you have,” Finn added.

“All right, I think we all have a better handle on the situation now.” Poe’s voice was calm and soothing, his manner wholly reasonable. No wonder he was a political fixer; she’d bet he earned every cent of his salary. “And I’m sure we can work out an acceptable solution for everyone. Rey and the child will be well taken care of, and Ben’s campaign won’t be disrupted. Just give me a few days to talk to legal representation and have them draw up an agreement.”

Despite her usual distrust of charming men, Rey grudgingly decided Poe was making sense. If Ben was willing to pay to make his problems go away, why not? As long as she never had to see him again, that was fine.

“I want to talk to Rey alone first.” Ben set his jaw mulishly. 

Poe sighed. Behind her Finn stiffened, his shoulders going up and his stance becoming more protective. “No way.”

But when Rey really looked at Ben, he didn’t seem angry any more—at least, not at her. And she could think of several things she wanted to say to him that she didn’t want a stranger like Poe, or even her best friend, to hear. 

“It’s okay,” she said abruptly. “I want to talk to him alone too. A couple minutes is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Finn leaned down to whisper in her ear, and she nodded. 

“We’ll be right outside,” Poe added.

“Don’t be so paranoid. You can wait in the car. At least it’s air-conditioned.” Ben ushered them out the door, Finn casting one last suspicious look over his shoulder as it closed behind him. 

But once the flimsy barrier was in place, Ben didn’t seem in any rush to start talking. He leaned back against the door, biting his lip, and ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of seeming nervousness.

“What do you want?” Rey squared up facing him and crossed her arms, prepared to fight if he was still going to try and talk her into an abortion.

He glanced quickly at her—specifically, at her stomach—and then stared into the space over her left shoulder. “Before I ask you anything else, I should tell you that Poe’s offer still stands. If you really don’t want anything more to do with me, I’ll sign away my parental rights and send a cheque every month. But…”

“But what?” she prompted. Why wouldn’t he get to the point? What kind of repulsive deal was he going to propose?

“But we could get married instead.”

Everything was suddenly photographically distinct to Rey’s eyes: the familiar pattern of chipped paint on the walls, each freckle and mole on Ben’s face. This had to be a joke.

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

“Because you need money, and I need a spouse. Poe keeps telling me my image is too cold and aloof. A wife and a kid on the way would help make me seem... relatable. More electable.”

Ben grimaced and stared down at his (enormous) feet in their shiny black leather dress shoes. Rey wondered idly if they’d cost more than her TV. “And, to be honest, I don’t think we can keep this a secret forever. Maybe Finn and Poe won’t talk, but my opponent will be looking for anything to bring up that could make me look bad. If he finds out about you, you’ll have reporters chasing you—it won’t be pleasant.”

Rey snorted. “It isn’t the nineteen fifties any more. Even if they find out, no one’s going to care if you have an illegitimate child.”

“They still do in some parts of the country. And even for the people who don’t care about extramarital sex… well, paying off a young unwed mother to keep her mouth shut wouldn’t come off very well either.”

“So you want us to get married. For a publicity stunt.”

“Not a stunt,” he corrected. “It would be a real, legal marriage. Though it wouldn't be permanent. You’re young, you don’t have to be stuck with me forever.”

Rey’s head was still spinning, but this part actually made sense to her. Ben wasn’t offering to marry her out of pure altruism. That was good, because she didn’t need his pity, and if he wanted this for his own reasons, that gave her some bargaining power. 

“If I agreed,” she said slowly, trying to calculate scenarios and figures in her head as she talked, “I’d want an ironclad prenup. You’d have to spell out exactly how long this is going to last and what I get out of it.”

“The rest of the campaign, plus another two years if I win. And you get five hundred thousand dollars no matter what. That’s the equivalent of a generous annual salary.” Ben’s face was completely blank and unreadable now, except for a small twitch under his left eye. She wondered if he played poker. “In return you’d have to be a supportive presence. Smiling cheerfully at campaign events, holding hands for the cameras, blah blah blah.”

A moment of panicked sanity cleared Rey’s head. “I don’t even know what kind of politician you are. Are you a Republican?” Some things she didn’t think she could bring herself to do, even for the sake of her child.

“No.” Ben barked a laugh. “I’m running in my mother’s old district, and she’d have disowned me in that case.”

Rey felt deeply nauseous, but she couldn’t tell if it was her morning sickness returning or the thought of play-acting the role of a political wife. “All my medical bills covered, of course.”

“Of course,” Ben agreed. “You’d be on my spousal coverage. No issues there.”

“And once we split up?” She swallowed nervously.

“You’re free to take the money and go. Iron-clad non-disclosure agreement. Neither of us talk about the marriage or why it ended other than boring platitudes.”

“What about… the kid?” she asked. 

“They’ll be too young to remember me.” Ben looked away again. “You don’t have to worry about me trying to stay in their life.”

That wasn’t what she’d meant. Rey didn’t want her kid to grow up without a father. But, on the other hand, it wasn’t like they’d have to live with a mystery of abandonment, like she had. Just the knowledge that their parents had split up when they were young—like a lot of other kids with absentee dads. She’d be enough for her baby; she knew she could be. And this might be a way to give herself a bit of a head start, just a little boost to make it her through her pregnancy and the first couple of years. 

“I’d need some of it up front,” Rey said, thinking out loud. “I can’t just take off and leave Finn without a roommate.”

“Listen, Rey.” Somehow, he’d taken a step closer without her noticing; despite his enormous size he could be astonishingly silent. “We can work out all these details later. But if you think you’re up for it, tell me. Make the call now. Otherwise, like I said, I’ll leave and you never have to see me again. You’ll still get child support.”

Rey closed her eyes, feeling dizzy again. Maybe she was insane, but she’d made one huge leap when she slept with Ben, and it had upended her life already. If she was going to have a kid, she owed it to them to give them the best start she could—and right now, that meant accepting their father’s offer. 

“I’ll do it. Let’s get married.”


	3. Chapter 3

A driver met them at the airport and whisked the three of them off in a dark sedan. Ben opened the back door for Rey and then sat next to her in silence, while Poe got in the passenger seat, jammed in a set of earbuds and made non-stop phone calls while simultaneously texting on a Blackberry. The multi-tasking was impressive, as was the speed of his thumbs. Rey stared out the tinted window at the streaming traffic on the freeways and the anonymous faces on the sidewalks once they reached the city centre.

The car circled a pillared neoclassical building that Rey assumed was a courthouse but, instead of stopping in front, pulled around into a narrow alley to one side. Poe jumped out of the car, scanned the street, and then hurried the two of them over to a loading door held open by a security guard.

On the other side of the metal detector, a petite Asian woman was waiting for them, tapping one foot. “Finally,” she grumbled, handing Poe a small paper bag. “We’ve got five minutes to get up there. Freight elevator’s this way.”

In the elevator, Rey shifted uncomfortably from side to side; the red Converse that she used to love so much were making her feet hot and swollen already. They also looked stupid with this dress… if only she had anything else to wear that still fit her. Unfortunately, the wrap dress she’d worn on the night she met Ben was the only semi-formal outfit she could still put on. Everything else had snug waistbands that felt too tight around her sensitive stomach. She didn’t understand how she could expand without gaining any weight, but apparently it was possible.

Ben had swallowed, once, when he saw her come out of her apartment building in the flower-patterned sundress, and she knew he was remembering sliding it off her body. But he didn’t meet her eyes. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to avoid an inconvenient boner on the way to his wedding, or to hide the fact that he wasn’t attracted to her any more. It hadn’t escaped her notice that she looked tired and wan, drained of energy. She’d layered on her makeup a little heavier than usual, trying to compensate, but blush could only do so much.

When the elevator opened, Poe put out an arm to hold them back while he peered down the hallway. Ben rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dameron, no one will be lying in wait for us. Nobody knows about this yet unless you leaked it.” He pushed past Poe and stopped outside to wait for Rey, extending a hand to her. She took it and held on, trying to make it seem like an ordinary reflex. She’d be doing this a lot, after all.

Only at that point did it strike her that they hadn’t discussed whether this marriage would include sex. Rey blanched. Right now, she felt the same way about sex as she did about bungee jumping: theoretically interesting, but way more trouble than it was worth and likely to make her throw up (then again, almost everything did right now). But she vaguely remembered hearing that pregnancy made you extra horny at some point... And if Ben was marrying her to help his political career and avoid scandal, having affairs wouldn’t exactly boost his chances. So had he assumed that, obviously, they’d just keep sleeping with each other?

Her hand jerked in his grip because she’d slowed almost to a dead stop in the hallway until Ben’s momentum yanked her forward.

“What’s wrong? Cold feet?” He turned back, letting her hand slip out of his, and Rey felt untethered, like she might float up to the ceiling. “You can still change your mind, if that’s what you want.”

“No.” She shook her head quickly. “I just realized—listen, can we talk somewhere private?”

Ben looked at Poe, who sighed. “Three minutes, that’s it. I had to call in a favour for this and the judge won’t be happy if we keep her waiting much longer.”

Ben nodded and pulled her aside into a shallow alcove under the blind marble eyes of a bust of some stern-faced old white guy. “What is it?” he asked, shifting his body to stand between her and Poe. His hand curled around her arm again and slid up to cup her elbow.

She gulped. “Is this going to be, like, a real marriage?”

He creased his eyebrows, looking endearingly confused. “Of course it is.”

She clarified in a whisper, “I mean sex.”

“Oh.” Ben flushed and let go of her arm. Unexpectedly, she almost missed the warm support of his hand. “That’s your call. Whatever you decide is fine with me.”

Rey stared at the breadth of his shoulders and bit her lip, remembering how good he’d made her feel. She could have that every night now, if she wanted. But that seemed like an obvious way to make their inevitable divorce more difficult than it had to be. And though it was impossible right now, what if she got pregnant again? Oh, hell no. There was no way she was risking that—Rey could manage without sex for a couple of years.

“I just think it’s better if we don’t.” She looked down at her feet, lacing her fingers together protectively over her stomach. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m sure you’re right.” Ben patted her shoulder awkwardly, like a sports coach trying to give a pep talk. “Now, can we go get married before Poe explodes?”

The ceremony itself was a blur. The judge was pleasant but briskly efficient, and it seemed more like an appointment at the DMV than anything else, especially with all the papers to sign afterward. Ben’s enormous hands shook slightly when he took hers and pushed a simple gold band onto one finger. Rey opened her mouth, ready to apologize for not having a ring for him, but Poe passed her a matching one and she took it from him automatically. When had he had time to acquire wedding bands? Was he some kind of magician? Maybe the other staffer who’d joined them had bought them with a few hours’ notice, while they were on the plane. She glanced over Poe’s shoulder and the woman winked at her, which was probably a yes.

Rey shook her head and returned to paying attention to her wedding—which was a good thing, because the judge was looking at her expectantly. Rey said “Yes,” because whatever the question, that was the proper answer at a wedding ceremony.

And that did it, apparently. Ben kissed her lightly on the mouth, as though they were on a middle school date, and once they were out of the judge’s office, he gave her an engagement ring to slip on above her wedding band.

When Rey looked at her phone, she realized the whole thing had taken less than ten minutes, start to finish. She snapped a quick shot of the rings on her left hand and sent it to Finn with a string of stunned reaction emojis.

Ben stood close to Rey and watched her even more closely throughout the ceremony, brief as it was. Although she looked a little pale, she was standing straight and didn’t seem about to faint. But he didn’t like the dark circles under her eyes, and her cheekbones pushed a little sharper against her skin. She was moving differently than he remembered from just a few weeks ago, too. Had being pregnant already changed her centre of gravity? It didn’t seem likely, but what the hell did he know about pregnancy?

She looked up from gazing at her ring and smiled at him, a little tentatively. “What next?”

Next, it was time to face the music, as she’d put it the night they met. “Rose will take you to do some shopping, and then we have a press conference scheduled to announce the news this afternoon.”

Her small smile vanished. “So soon?”

“The longer we put it off, the more likely someone will find out and leak it first. That’s why Poe was so paranoid,” he explained. “We asked the judge to delay filing the paperwork for a little while, but once she does there’s nothing to stop a clerk in the vital statistics office from spilling the news.”

“Fine. Better to get it over with, I guess.” She looked up at him with a curious tilt to her head. “When do I get to meet your family? Have you already told your parents about us?”

“My parents are both gone, and I don’t have any siblings.” The campaign manager he’d inherited from his mother was the closest thing he had left to family; how sad was that? “They’d have loved you, though,” he added honestly. His mom would’ve thought marrying Rey was the best decision he’d ever made—if he hadn’t had to bribe her into doing it.

Then Ben realized what else he’d forgotten.

“What about your family?” He was a selfish idiot for not asking sooner, but he’d been so fixated on getting the wedding over and done with that he hadn’t considered there might be people Rey wanted to inform about the news. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have them at the wedding. Is there anyone you want to call right now?”

“No.” Rey’s face smoothed into a seamless shell, and her shoulders tightened. “I don’t have any family either. Except Finn.”

On impulse, Ben reached out for her hand, rubbing his thumb over the bright new wedding band. “Can I ask...?”

“I was abandoned at a hospital when I was three. I didn’t have any ID and no-one ever tried to reclaim me, so I went into foster care.” She shrugged. “That’s it.”

Ben blinked, stunned at the concept of having no connection to the past. The absolute freedom of no ancestors, no legacy; sometimes he’d wished for it with all his heart when he was younger—but not like that. He pictured a younger Rey, alone and ferociously independent out of necessity, and felt his throat tighten with sadness. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Her tone was dismissive. “I’ve had plenty of time to get used to it.”

“We could try to find them,” Ben suggested. “I could hire a private investigator.”

Rey laughed, a ragged noise more bitter than any Ben had heard from her before. “It’s a nice thought, but there’s not really anything for them to investigate. And by now, I don’t think I’d want to meet my parents, anyway. They never came back for me.”

“Maybe they did, and couldn’t find you.” Ben squeezed her cold fingers, wishing he had more comfort to offer.

“Until now, I lived in the same city my whole life. If they wanted to find me, they could have contacted the hospital, Child and Family Services… no-one ever bothered to look for me.” She shrugged again. “Seriously, Ben, it’s not worth it.”

“All right. But if you change your mind, let me know.”

He heard the click of shoes on marble and looked up. Rose was headed back from the end of the hall, holding up her phone. “Rey and I need to get going. I’ve lined up appointments at a few places and we shouldn’t be late.”

Ben leaned down to kiss Rey on the cheek and felt her freeze rigid for an instant before she relaxed. Did she loathe him that much already? That was a problem; they’d have to get used to touching each other eventually, even if they weren’t going to sleep together.

Rey spread her left hand out on her knee and stared at the engagement ring shining on her finger. It was a little loose, but when Ben had offered to resize it she’d told him no thanks. It wouldn’t be hers long enough to bother. Plus, her hands would probably swell by the end of this pregnancy anyway. It matched her wedding band and was surprisingly understated, a simple gold band with dainty chips of diamond surrounding a modest emerald, which made sense when Ben told her it had been his mother’s. If you came from the kind of family that had heirloom jewellery to pass down, Rey guessed, you didn’t need to wear something that looked like a flashlight.

Calm down and act natural, Rey told herself. You can handle this. Acting like a loyal, supportive spouse, pretending to be in love with the stranger she’d made a cold-blooded deal with for money and the sake of their kid—no big deal, right?

She smoothed her new skirt nervously over her thighs, absently worrying about wrinkles. Like everything else in her brand new wardrobe, it had cost more than her previous share of the rent. The afternoon had consisted of a Hollywood-style makeover in which the terrifyingly organized woman, whose name was Rose, whisked Rey in and out of sophisticated boutiques that had dressing rooms bigger than her bedroom and offered shoppers a glass of wine. The saleswomen smiled widely at Rey, but their eyes scrutinized her from head to toe and she felt as though her non-existent bump had to be hideously obvious through her cheap dress. Only the fact she was pregnant had stopped Rey from getting day drunk on free champagne—she did take full advantage of the complimentary snacks, though.

Rose had been surprisingly kind. Rey had been braced for condescension, if not outright hostility, from anyone who worked for Ben, but Rose didn’t seem to care that her boss’s new wife was an unemployed bartender without any higher education. And she actually paid attention to Rey’s opinion about the clothes she tried on. “They need to be polished enough to work on camera,” she explained, “but if you hate what you’re wearing you’ll look stiff and unhappy. I promise I’m not here to turn you into a Stepford wife.”

“Just a political one,” Rey had said wryly.

“Close, but not quite the same.” Rose grinned back at her.

So Rey had been able to veto heels, which she’d never liked (luckily, she was tall enough she didn’t need them in order not to look “like a kid” next to Ben, in Rose’s phrasing) and choose flats that would be comfortable for long days—if there was one thing Rey knew, it was comfortable shoes.

“Long sleeves are probably a good idea for a little while, though,” Rose said. “Not sure the electorate here is ready for Jackie O with a half-sleeve tattoo.”

Rey laughed until she nearly choked on a cracker smeared with Brie. “Wait until you see the rest of it.”

But Rose’s only response to seeing her back while Rey shimmied in and out of clothes had been, “Nice work—really nice work. Maybe no backless gowns, though.”

Because apparently, Rey’s life now required evening gowns for galas, fundraising events, and the like. So their next stop had been an even fancier boutique where you sat on a sofa and the sales staff brought dresses to you—without any price tags, Rey had noticed. She raised an eyebrow at Rose, who’d shrugged. “I gave them a budget range, and they’ll stick to it.”

The same store had a small selection of men’s clothes as well, mostly accessories. Rey had found herself eying a silk tie with a jewel-bright paisley pattern on it.

“Get it for him,” Rose said, popping up at her elbow and startling Rey into a quick step backwards.

“Really? Isn’t that a bit clichéd?” Mostly, Rey would feel pretty stupid buying her new husband a “present” with his own money.

“He always dresses so boringly, and he won’t take any of my suggestions to liven up a bit. I’ve been hoping that he might listen to whoever he married.” Rose grinned at her. “And I can see you’ve definitely got a more colourful side.”

Rey ran the soft silk through her fingers. What the hell. “Fine, throw it in.”

After the new clothes, there was a spa appointment at which the stylist clucked in disapproval over Rey’s split ends. It was worth it, though, because Rey came out with hair so soft and thick she couldn’t stop tossing her head just for the pleasure of feeling it swing and fall back into place. God, it was amazing what money could do. Rey looked like Grace Kelly in _Rear Window_ : pure elegance. Even if her actual self was nothing like that.

The car slowed to a stop in front of a storefront that had posters with Ben’s name on them plastered all over the exterior windows. “Ready?” Rose asked.

Rey laughed, a little shakily. “As I’ll ever be.”

Ben hurried over to the car and helped her out, holding her elbow as Rey concentrated on exiting gracefully. He leaned down to speak quietly into her ear. “You don’t need to answer any questions. Just hold my hand and try to look happy.”

Right. Not like someone who’d just been through what amounted to a shotgun wedding. Rey swallowed and pasted on a thick, empty smile.

Ben slid his hand down to her wrist and Rey turned hers to grab it it like she’d just fallen off a bridge. He looked down at her and smiled, warm and loving, and her breath caught for a moment until she realized it was a performance.

She dragged her eyes away from him and focused on the jostling bunch of reporters. There were at least three video cameras, their huge black pupils focused on her, and a dozen microphones or cell phones pointed at them ready to record every syllable. She swallowed again, hard.

Poe pushed in between the two of them and the reporters. “Come on, guys, we’re giving you your photo op, back off a little and give us some room.”

Ben tugged her forward with him until they were in the centre of the ring of eyes. He let go of her hand and choking panic rose in her throat until he slipped one arm around her waist. With a sigh of relief, she relaxed against his side. Flashes went off as he lifted his free hand in a wave. “You’ve seen our statement. Rey and I don’t have anything to add at this time, but we’ll take a few questions.”

“How long have you known each other?” a short red-haired woman at the front of the pack asked.

“We met this summer,” Ben answered. Rey admired his skill at truthfully misleading responses, especially since he didn’t mention it had been in August. “Neither of us were planning on getting married so soon, but what can I say—you just know when the time is right.”

He looked down at her again, and the adoring expression on his face would have convinced her he was a newlywed in love if she didn’t know better.

One of the TV reporters shoved their mic forward. “Rey, how did you meet?”

Her hands felt like ice and she had to force herself to meet the woman’s eyes directly. Despite Ben letting her off the hook, Rey was determined to do her part. She’d signed up for this and she owed him the illusion of a real partnership; staring silently at the ground wouldn’t make her seem like a strong person. She kept smiling and hoped it was reflected in her eyes.

There was no point in trying to lie about how they’d met, when it would be so easy for someone to find out the truth. So all she had to do was what Ben had: spin it in such a way that it sounded romantic. “I was bartending, and Ben happened to order my favourite bourbon. We started talking and…” She shrugged. “Sometimes you just click.”

One voice called out from the back of the crowd, “Are you pregnant?”

Rey couldn’t see who’d asked, but Ben might since he had a better view of the back of the crowd. He pulled her closer to his side and she could feel anger simmering in his stance as he glared back at the reporters.

Rey laid her left hand on Ben’s broad chest, flashing her rings (the clicking of cameras rose to a crescendo as she did) and smoothing his tie like a fond wife. It was also a subtle way of restraining him, since he seemed about to launch himself at the questioner. A fistfight with the press wouldn’t improve his election chances.

“We’re working on it,” she said with a sugar-sweet smile.

Poe broke in loudly. “That’s it, you’ve had your photos, we’re done. And O’Reilly, I’ll be talking to your editor.” He pushed the two of them toward the office, muttering under his breath, “Just ignore anything else they say and keep smiling.”

Rey followed his instructions, staring blankly ahead and keeping a strained, flat smile on her face. Ben’s hand on the small of her back felt like the only thing keeping her upright.

Once the glass door shut behind them, Rose and the dozen or so volunteers gathered in the space broke into applause. Rey blinked. Her pulse still was pounding in her ears and she felt like she was having an out of body experience, but at least they seemed pleased with her performance so far.

Poe threw his arms around her and Ben, grinning like a kid on his birthday. “Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Solo!”

They shook hands and accepted congratulations as they worked their way through the room towards Ben’s office at the back, and when that door closed behind them Rey finally managed to take a deep breath.

“Actually, I wasn’t going to change my name,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth. It hardly seemed worth the trouble for two years of marriage, and though Rey had never felt a deep attachment to her name, it was still the only thing her parents had given her that she had.

“Oh.” Poe’s face fell. “Well, that’s not a dealbreaker in this part of the country.”

“Come on, Poe, it’s not important.” Ben moved up behind her to stand at her shoulder. “You should sit down, Rey, you’re looking a little pale.”

Poe looked critically at her. “Yeah, you are.”

“Have you seen a doctor yet?” Ben demanded.

“No!” Rey snapped back at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been a little busy, what with surprise proposals, flying cross-country, and getting goddamn married!” Shit, she heard a tremor in her voice and her eyes were watering. She swallowed and turned her back on both of them, holding her breath in an effort to regain control.

“Clear my schedule for the rest of the day, okay?” Ben muttered to Poe. “And get Rose on finding a good, discreet ob/gyn. I want Rey to see someone by the end of the week.”

Rey sniffled, and lifted her hands to wipe the wetness from her eyes—then she remembered she was wearing too much eye makeup for that, and it would smear into a huge mess.

“Come on.” Ben grabbed her raised hand and towed her out of the office. “I’m taking you home.”

Ben’s house was a small Craftsman-style bungalow on a quiet street, not exactly how Rey had pictured a senator’s home. But if he’d only been here a few weeks, she supposed it was likely a rental.

He unlocked the door and showed her into the first door on the left, a small untidy room that was set up as a home office with newspapers piled on the table in front of a small sagging couch, a colony of empty mugs on the computer desk, and a TV in one corner.

Ben guided her over to the couch and squeezed her hand. “Lie down, okay?”

“I’m fine, really.” But she let him take her suit jacket off and watched his dark head as he knelt to pull off her shoes. It was dangerously seductive letting someone else take care of her, even though she knew it was a bad idea to get used to it. She wondered why he was being so solicitous outside of camera range. Maybe he just had a chivalry complex; some of that had to be in his personality, for him to have offered to marry her in the first place.

He nudged her knees, and she obediently lifted her legs and curled onto her side while he tucked a pillow behind her head. Even kneeling on the floor, he was ridiculously tall; she had to crane her neck to keep looking at him while he dragged a blanket down off the back of the couch to cover her. “Do you need anything? Water, tea…?”

“Tea would be nice,” she said.

Ben left the room and Rey let out a long breath, enjoying her first oasis of solitude all day long. She closed her eyes, pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and snuggled into it, rubbing her cheek against the soft fabric.

The next thing she knew, it was dark. Where the hell was she? She blinked her dry eyes open and saw a mug of tea on the table in front of her. CNN was on the TV in the corner, anchors talking animatedly without sound and text streaming across the screen.

Right, she was in Ben’s house. Her husband’s house.

Her cheek was creased from the couch pillow and she had the grumpy disorientation that came from napping for too long. She pushed up on one elbow, peering over the back of the couch. Ben was at the desk, working on a laptop and wearing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. Oh, that was unfair—he looked like a sexy professor with those on.

“What time is it?” she croaked.

Ben looked up from the screen. “Around seven.”

“Shit.” She sat up slowly, rumpled and annoyed. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

Ben took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We didn’t have anywhere to be, and you obviously needed the rest. Are you hungry? Dinner should be ready.”

Rey wasn’t, but she supposed she should try to eat.

Dinner was reheated frozen lasagne and bagged salad. Rey stared down at her plate, pulling the layers of pasta apart with a fork. Usually she loved it, but right now it felt like too much for her fragile stomach to handle. So far, that was definitely the worst thing about being pregnant. Wasn’t she supposed to be eating like a horse? Instead, she had the delicate appetite of a Victorian consumptive who could only live on broth and fresh fruit.

She let her eyes wander around the dining room instead. Like the rest of Ben’s house other than the office, it was comfortable, but oddly sterile. It looked like a set from a TV show, spotlessly clean, appropriately decorated and completely impersonal. The only thing she could see that seemed to have any relation to Ben was a photo on the wall of a couple standing beneath a blooming cherry tree. Rey knew who they were at a glance: his father had Ben’s height and nose, his mother his dark eyes and hair.

Ben cleared his throat. “What are you planning to do after the baby’s born? Any thoughts?”

“What are my options?” she asked. “Do I have to be a stay-at-home mom?”

“No.” He looked startled, as though the idea of dictating her choice had never occurred to him, and she liked him a little better for it. “Not unless you want to. I can afford to pay for child care. I’m not trying to force you to go back to work, either,” he added hastily, “although I wouldn’t suggest you start bartending again.”

Rey snorted. “Yeah, I figured.” She took a sip of her water and deliberated whether to share her wish. Well, she might as well take the plunge. “I was thinking about maybe going back to school. I took some courses at community college, but I wasn’t able to finish my degree.”

“What were you studying?” Ben asked, and he sounded sincerely interested—the career politician’s talent shining through.

“Sociology, psychology, a little history…” Rey shrugged. “Nothing that was going to get me a job.”

“If you were interested in it, then it’s worth going back,” Ben said. “And we can help you find a job eventually. Poe has a lot of contacts.”

Rey wasn’t sure she wanted anyone to hire her based solely on her relationship to a powerful man—but then again, why shouldn’t she have an opportunity to use all the connections rich assholes had been using for centuries? This arrangement wasn’t going to last, and even if Ben kept his promise to pay child support after the divorce, she couldn’t rely on him to pay for her whole life.

“I’ll think about it.”

He smiled at her and Rey realized she’d eaten two whole bites of lasagne—which was all her stomach could handle, plus her bladder was full.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she grumbled. “And get changed. Where’m I staying, anyway?”

“Rose set up the guest bedroom for you. I told her you could share mine, but she argued a pregnant woman deserved a bed to herself.”

Despite her cranky mood, Rey smiled. “She’s a smart person.”

“The smartest.” Ben got to his feet. “I’ll show you where it is.”

He led her down the hall, pointing to doors as they passed. “My bedroom. Bathroom—you’ll have it to yourself, I have an ensuite. And this is your room.”

It was another bland space, obviously used more for extra storage than housing actual guests. The open closet looked nearly full of off-season clothes, and there was a stack of cardboard file boxes in one corner. But the walls were a pretty pale blue and the mattress didn’t sag, which made it better than ninety percent of the places Rey had slept in her life.

“Rose brought over a bunch of stuff.” He pointed to the shopping bags piled on the dresser. “And she found a doctor for you to see.” He dug a small bit of cardboard out of his back pocket and passed it to Rey: it was an appointment card for someone named Dr. Melanie Ogunlana, and the date written on it was the day after tomorrow.

Rey cleared her throat. “Thanks.”

“Do you want me to come?”

Her first instinct was to say no. She shouldn’t get used to relying on Ben, on his money or (worse) on his support: it was only temporary. But then she remembered that he was entitled to use her, and the baby eventually, as a prop—that was their role. “Do you want to?” she parried.

“That’s up to you. Really.” He looked down at the floor. She wondered how such an enormous man could seem so uncomfortable in his own skin. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t aware of how much room he took up; he seemed to try to shrink into corners except when he was in public, performing. But it didn’t all seem like an act, either; he was confident enough around other people like Poe and Rose. For some reason, it was Rey that scared him, though she had no idea why.

In that case, she didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable. “I’ll be fine,” she said with a casual lightness she wasn’t sure she really felt. What if there was bad news about the baby?

Then she’d be alone to face it, same as she would have been before. She wasn’t actually any worse off.

“Okay. I’ll let you get some sleep now.” He hesitated, twisting the doorknob absently in one huge hand. “Poe wanted me to ask if you’d come to a school appearance on Friday. We’re announcing a new campaign plank, state-wide full-day preschool. But you don’t have to, if you’d rather not.”

Rey had started digging through the bags, looking for the nightgown she vaguely remembered buying along with underwear and bras at one of the boutiques. “I thought that was part of our deal.”

“You don’t have to come to every single appearance I make. But you made a good impression today, and it could be a boost for us. It will get more media attention, at least.” He shrugged ruefully. “You’re a new face.”

“Then yeah, I’ll do it.” She smiled at him.

“Thanks.” He smiled back, tentatively. “Rose will give you the details. I probably won’t see you in the morning, I have an early breakfast with the Chamber of Commerce. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed.

The bed was very comfortable, although the crisp, brand new sheets were a little rough against her suddenly sensitive skin. Rey was sure she’d lie awake staring at the ceiling for hours, given the mental rollercoaster of the day and her power failure nap. But when she closed her eyes, she plunged down into sleep like an anchor into deep water.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose had done as good a job of finding a doctor as she seemed to do at everything. The ob/gyn was a tall dark-skinned woman with a reassuringly calm manner who dealt with Rey kindly but efficiently, sending her off with a prescription for anti-nausea medication, a sheaf of pamphlets and a list of suggested reading material, and another appointment in two weeks’ time. 

“Normally I wouldn’t bother for another month,” Dr. Ogunlana said, “but you’re still a little underweight and I want to make sure you start gaining it back. And that way, we can do a dating ultrasound at the same time. You’ll get to see your baby.” 

Rey was thrilled for a second, and then (as usual these days), her mood started to swing wildly back and forth between joy and despair. Ben probably wouldn’t bother to come, and she’d be alone instead of having a partner to share the experience with. 

This time, at least Rose had come along. She’d ended up calling an Uber to take both of them to Rey’s appointment, which was frankly a huge relief. Rey didn’t want to try and figure out the bus routes in this city yet—and maybe it wasn’t the best idea for her to hop on public transit right now anyway. 

When Rey got back into the car, Rose took one look at her and raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Rey nodded. “But I think I need to buy some books.”

“I can drop you at a bookstore before I head back to work,” Rose offered.

“Thanks, Rose, but you’ve already spent way too much of your day helping me. I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I can just order online…” Rey’s voice trailed off as she realized something that should’ve occurred to her a lot sooner. Although she had a whole new expensive wardrobe, and despite the fact Ben had agreed to pay her a lot of money at the end of this marriage, that didn’t mean she had any funds right now. She doubted there was any room left on her credit card.

“What?” Rose asked. 

“I don’t really have any money,” Rey confessed in a rush. “I forgot to ask Ben about that, and I’m pretty sure I’m not on any of his accounts yet.” 

“I’ll take care of that as soon as possible.” Rose made a note on her phone. “But it might take a few days. Didn’t Ben give you any spending money?”

“Well, he didn’t hand me a twenty on his way out the door and tell me to go get ice cream,” Rey said dryly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll get on him about it—he’s well-meaning, just a bit distracted.” Rose hesitated, and her next words were slow and tentative. “You know, Rey… if you ever have concerns or problems, or if you just need to get away, you can tell me. I know we don’t really know each other that well yet, and I work for Ben, but if it ever comes down to it I’m in your corner.”

Rey felt incredibly warmed by Rose’s offer of solidarity, and at the same time it made her anxious. “Why? Is there something I should know about him?”

“God, no!” Rose laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. For someone in politics, apparently my communication skills are shit. No, as far as I know you don’t have anything to worry about with Ben.” She reached out and laid her hand over Rey’s. “But you’re alone in a new city and in a new relationship. And not all marriages work out. So I just wanted you to know that if you ever need help, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Rose. That means a lot.” Of course Rey knew Finn would always be there for her, but he was hundreds of miles away right now. And sure, this might’ve been a calculated gesture, intended to keep her boss’s new wife from airing any dirty laundry in public. Rose didn’t seem like the type, though. In fact, she seemed far too blunt for someone in politics—maybe that was why Rey liked her so much.

She eyed Rose as the car pulled to a stop at a red light. “How did you end up in this job anyway? Aren’t you political types supposed to be more, I don’t know, tactful?”

Rose cackled. “Speaking of tact, you don’t have to be so polite, Rey. You can say that I’m a loudmouth. Honestly, it’s because I don’t have any interest in being out in front. All I want to do is work behind the scenes. I’ve been a policy wonk since I was in middle school.”

Oh, shit, that reminded her. “Ben asked if I’d go to some school event with him tomorrow. He said you’d give me the details.”

“Right.” Rose grabbed her phone and tapped on it, calling up some kind of calendar with so many brightly colour-coded squares it looked like a game of Candy Crush. “It’s at an inner-city elementary school, basically an excuse for photo-ops with the kids. How are you at reading to them?”

“To kids?” Rey squeaked. “Not good. I didn’t even babysit when I was a teenager.” She’d been the youngest in most of her early foster homes, and then the only one placed with Maz, so she didn’t have much experience with little kids.

Rose made a noncommittal humming noise. “Well, be prepared to play with some modelling clay then. Wear pants, so none of them can look up your skirt, and nothing that needs dry cleaning. You can get a lot of finger paint smeared on you at these things.”

“Will you be there?” Rey asked plaintively.

Rose shook her head. “I’ve got to do some volunteer training. We’ve got quite a few new ones coming onboard, which is great. Good sign of positive momentum for the campaign.”

Rey felt a moment of blind panic but told herself that was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, she could manage a school visit without someone to hold her hand. “Any more tips?”

Rose pursed her lips, thinking. “I can’t say be yourself, because that’s not what politics is about. But I will say—don’t force it. Double your natural level of friendliness, be prepared to look like Ben’s speech is utterly amazing and the best thing you’ve ever heard, but don’t feel you have to try and charm everyone.”

Rey nodded, wishing she could take notes. 

“Think of a couple of deflections to use when you get questions you don’t want to answer. If you listen to Ben, you’ll notice he’s got a couple of those prepared—ways to pivot into what he wants to talk about. Most politicians do.” Rose grinned at her. “Or just throw them a curveball like your response to the pregnancy question yesterday. That was perfect.”

“You mean I haven’t already screwed things up?” Rey asked. “Ben seemed a little shell-shocked.”

“Nah, Poe was in raptures over it. It was great: blunt but not rude, really sold the ‘newlyweds in love’ angle. And it reminded all the reporters that they were basically asking questions about your sex life, which is pretty crass. They like to consider themselves above that.”

Well, that was a positive way to look at it. Rey’d been convinced she’d come across as an airhead.

The car glided to a stop and Rey looked out the window, surprised to see they were already back at Ben’s house. “See you later. And don’t worry about tomorrow,” Rose said briskly. “You can handle a few rugrats.”

Right now, Rey wasn’t so sure. She stared down at the cluster of six-year-olds gathered around her knees, most of them talking over each other—loudly, if barely intelligible through gapped teeth—and half of them grabbing for her hands or tugging at her belt. “Miss Rey! Miss Rey!”

She remembered a piece of Rose’s advice and chose one kid to talk to at random: a little girl with freckles and hair in two puffs on top of her head that vaguely reminded Rey of the weird hairstyle she’d insisted on at that age. “What’s your favourite thing to do at school?” she asked. 

“The sand table!” The girl grabbed Rey’s hand firmly and towed her over to a big square box packed full of some kind of multi-coloured fake sand that clumped together easily. “I make the tallest towers ever.”

Honestly, that sounded like fun. It also seemed to break some kind of dam, and before Rey could even run her fingers through the sand, she was being yanked back and forth across the classroom to look at everything from Lego robots to self-portraits done in crayon. It was surprisingly easy to speak to kids, she discovered: all you had to do was ask them a couple of questions and most of them were happy to talk your ear off. But she tried to pay attention to the shy ones too, the ones who hung back at the rear of the crowd staring at her with wide eyes. Would her kid be outgoing and brash, she wondered? Or quiet and thoughtful? Rey didn’t have many detailed memories of her childhood, but she remembered wanting to sit at the front of the class and chatter away. Would the baby take after her—or Ben? 

She glanced over at Ben, who was standing in the corner talking seriously to the teacher: having an adult conversation that didn’t involve the Tooth Fairy or long, involved stories about someone’s little brother throwing up on them. She shot him a half-amused, half-annoyed glare and he had the nerve to just smile back at her and shrug.

Another kid jumped up and whisper-shouted in her ear that he wanted to demonstrate his karate moves. Rey crouched down to get closer to his level. “See that big guy over there?” she asked, pointing her thumb at Ben. “I think you should show him. He’s probably great at karate.”

The little boy’s eyes lit up and he darted across the room. Rey smothered a laugh as the teacher intercepted him just in time to save Ben’s shins from a karate chop. He bent over awkwardly at the waist and listened intently to the kid’s long-winded monologue, punctuated by wild arm gestures and kicks. 

That did it. As soon as one kid had approached Ben, the same whirlwind of chaos surrounded him. Rey grinned as he sent her a pleading look. 

Poe sidled up beside her and nudged her with an elbow. “Good work.”

“Huh?” Rey said, which wasn’t the most intelligent reaction, but she didn’t understand what he meant. “I didn’t do anything but play with sand.”

“You got Ben to talk to the kids. That’s better than standing off in the corner with the teacher, which is what he always does at these things.”

“Why? She’s the only one old enough to vote,” Rey pointed out. 

Poe sighed. “It’s the likability thing. A politician who can interact with kids seems more approachable. And honestly, we’re here for the photo op. There wouldn’t be much point in coming just to meet one teacher—who’s probably going to vote for Ben anyway, if her politics align with most public school teachers in this district.”

“I didn’t know that,” Rey said apologetically. 

“Why would you? You lived in a different state.”

And she’d never really followed politics anyway, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Poe.

“How did Ben end up running for office, anyway?” she asked. “If it doesn’t come naturally to him. He doesn’t really seem like the politician type to me.”

“Did he mention his mother recently passed away?” 

Rey nodded. 

“Leia represented this district for years. But she had to step down suddenly when she got sick.” Poe’s expression looked brittle suddenly. “And the governor, who hated her, appointed Hux to finish out her term—someone who stood for everything she opposed. So she asked Ben to come back home and run to succeed her. They’d had their differences in the past… but he couldn’t refuse to carry on her legacy.” 

Rey wondered what exactly they’d differed about. On the night they met, Ben had talked about eating crow; had he come back to beg his mother’s forgiveness before she asked him to do this for her? Or was asking him her way of showing that he was forgiven?

Ben still didn’t know what had given him the impulse to at least make an attempt to fix his latest fuckup, instead of running away from it as he’d always done before. And he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected when he asked Rey to marry him—but whatever he’d expected from their deal, this wasn’t it.

Their lives began to intertwine in a way Ben had never experienced before. Sure, he’d lived with his parents and had roommates, but sharing a house with Rey was different. When she woke up in the middle of the night and brewed herself a cup of tea, she’d come into his office and make him stop working. They’d watch bad reality TV together on the couch until she felt sleepy, and Ben found himself rubbing her feet the way he remembered his father doing for his mother. 

After a week of nights like that, he tugged on her hand and pulled her with him into his bedroom instead of letting her go down the hall to the guest one. “Just to sleep,” he told her. “It’s better if we’re in the same room, then you can wake me if you need anything in the middle of the night.”

“I could just yell from down the hall,” she pointed out with a crooked smile.

He shrugged, unable to think of a counter-argument, but she still came in. And after that, they slept in the same bed every night without discussion. Ben found it was a lot harder to stay up all night, staring at the ceiling and obsessing over what had gone wrong that day, with Rey asleep beside him snoring delicately.

Poe and Rose started treating them as a unit, expecting Rey to be with him most of the time, assuming that she’d have an opinion on Ben’s clothes or speeches or media appearances—and one that deserved consideration. Despite his best efforts not to depend on Rey too much, Ben was starting to assume the same. He found his gaze drawn to her when he was speaking, and she took to giving him covert gestures of encouragement, tiny nods and subtle thumbs up against the side of her legs. He learned all the different shades of her smiles, from the nervous to the practiced to the genuine. 

She was amazingly good at what Poe called “retail politics”—making a personal connection with voters and their families. She could talk to everyone, in a way that never came across as condescending or fake.

Ben had never wanted to be a politician. He’d accepted his mother’s charge, because what else could he say to a dying woman? Leia seemed to believe that he could do it, and maybe he could, but it didn’t come naturally to him. Like Poe, he’d realized, Ben preferred trying to create order behind the scenes—where Rey dove in, joyfully embracing the chaos of everything from a factory visit to a trip to a dairy farm for his agricultural plan. 

The photos of her learning to drive a tractor on that visit went viral. Ben surreptitiously saved one to his phone; looking at the image of her laughing as she lurched through the farmyard on top of the muddy John Deere always improved his day, no matter what he was dealing with.

“Drink this.” Ben set a glass full of a thick, murky mixture on the kitchen island in front of Rey. 

She shook her head mutinously. “Not unless you tell me what’s in it.”

“It’s a smoothie. Lots of good things in there.”

“It looks like mud,” she said, making a face. “Spinach? Kale?”

He laughed and nudged the glass a little closer to her. “There’s a tiny bit of spinach. If you can taste it, you don’t have to drink any more. But I bet you won’t.”

Rey sighed, disgruntled. She hated health-food smoothies; as far as she was concerned, only the kind that were basically nothing but blended frozen fruit were worth drinking. But Ben was still looking at her hopefully, and she was actually hungry. Maybe she could choke some down. She lifted the glass and touched her tongue to the mixture inside. 

It was actually—not bad. Despite the green hue, it tasted mostly of banana and strawberry. She decided it was edible, and took a bigger sip. Her morning sickness must be improving, if she could stomach a vegetable milkshake.

Ben smiled at her and she rolled her eyes at him with a tinge of fondness. “Yeah, yeah. I bet it would be even better without the spinach.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to say I told you so.”

She slurped down another mouthful and licked at the mixture clinging to her top lip. “Can I borrow Rose again this afternoon?”

“Depends what time. We’ve got a meeting with the pollsters at two.”

“Oh, okay.” She tried not to sound disappointed, but something must have trickled through in her tone. Ben put his phone down and looked at her. “What’s up?” 

“I have another doctor’s appointment.”

“Are you okay? Is everything alright?” His eyes widened and he moved around the island, reaching toward her shoulder as though she were about to fall off the stool. 

“I‘m fine. It’s just a checkup,” she said, pushing his hand away irritably. She hesitated. “But the doctor said she’d probably be doing an ultrasound today, so I can bring back a photo. If you’re interested in seeing it.”

Ben leaned one hip against the edge of the counter and crossed his arms. “Do you want me to come? I can take you.”

“What about the pollsters?”

He shrugged. “Rose and Poe don’t really need me there. They're better at those meetings anyway—they don’t lose motivation when they hear our numbers.”

“Is the campaign not going well?” Rey asked cautiously. So far, everyone had been willing to include her in their planning and answer her questions, but she wasn’t sure how much she was supposed to know, or whether she was still just intended to be the photogenic political spouse-slash-lucky mascot. 

“Define ‘well.’” He pushed away from the counter and ran a hand through his hair. “I always knew it was a long shot. I told myself it didn’t matter as long as I put up a decent effort. But I never knew how badly I wanted to beat that smug asshole Hux until he started going in on my mom’s record.” He turned his back to her and dumped the rest of his coffee down the sink. “Anyway, I’m happy to drive you to the appointment. I don’t have to stick around for it unless you want me to.”

Rey sloshed the dregs of the smoothie around in her glass. “Sure,” she muttered. “That would be good.”

She figured Ben could just sit in the loading zone if it didn’t take that long, or find a coffee shop and she’d text him when she was done. But somehow, on the way there, she found herself admitting that she wouldn’t mind company in the waiting room. And then it seemed ridiculous to have him stay there instead of coming into the exam room with her. 

Dr. Ogunlana did a double take when she saw Ben, clearly recognizing him, but she didn’t make any reference to who he was other than the baby’s father. He sat silently in the chair beside the uncomfortable exam table while the doctor did a quick checkup and asked Rey about her appetite. Then she wheeled over the portable ultrasound machine and hiked up Rey’s shirt to smear gel on her slightly rounded belly. Rey flushed. feeling exposed even though Ben had already seen every inch of her naked. This was too intimate for two people who were still mostly strangers. 

But at the bizarre sight of an actual living thing inside her, she forgot all her reserve and grabbed for Ben’s hand. He held on tight, staring slack-jawed at the grainy, wavering picture pulsing in time with the heartbeat they could hear whooshing through the speaker. Tears stung Rey’s eyes and her chest tightened with an emotion she couldn't describe: something equal parts terror and wonder. 

“Everything looks absolutely fine so far,” the doctor said briskly. “Are you going to want to know the sex?”

“What?” Rey’s gaze snapped back to the doctor. “You can tell this early?”

“No,” she said, smiling. “If you want to know, I’d make a note to try at your second ultrasound. That’ll be at about 18 weeks.”

“I’m okay with not knowing.” Ben’s deep voice startled her. She turned her head to see him smiling at her—that wide, open expression she’d seen on him the first night they met, and rarely since. He squeezed her hand, his smile fading and his brows drawing together in worry. “What do you want?”

“It’s fine,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’d rather be surprised too.” Whatever this baby was, it didn’t matter to Rey; she was going to be its mother. And in the end, when this temporary arrangement with Ben was over, it would be just the two of them. 

Ben asked, a little shyly, “Can we have a printout?” 

“Of course. I can send you a video too,” the doctor said. “Just give your email address to the receptionist.”

Ben’s eyes widened, and his rare true smile lit up his face again. Another sudden rush of affection swept over Rey, and for an instant she felt like half of a real couple. 

“Hey, kid.” 

“Finn!” Rey lit up at the sound of his voice. She grinned and waved at his image on her phone. “I’m sorry I haven’t texted much, it’s been crazy busy out here. Turns out being a politician’s wife is basically a full-time job, who knew?”

Finn made a noncommittal noise but didn’t restart their argument about her decision to marry Ben. “Hey, you sent me the ultrasound photo, all is forgiven. Can’t wait to see my baby niece or nephew.”

Rey leaned her phone up against the book on the coffee table so she’d have a free hand to hold her mug of tea. Ben was at a late meeting with Poe, so she could talk freely. “It’s finally starting to feel real,” she admitted. “I even started looking at baby stuff online. Can’t bring myself to buy anything just yet, but I’ll get there.”

“Do you still want me to come out for a visit when the baby’s born?”

“Of course!” she said, stung. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Finn shrugged. Behind him she could see the familiar yellow walls of their old apartment, and the plants she’d left him with two pages of instructions on how to care for. A pang of homesickness made her throat ache. 

“I thought maybe you wouldn’t be interested in keeping old friends around now that you’re rich.”

Rey sighed. “Come on, Finn. You know me better than that. The new clothes are expensive, I‘ll give you that, but they’re just clothes. Nothing else has changed.” 

“Is he treating you okay?” Finn’s voice was low and quiet. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, staring earnestly at the screen and willing him to believe her. “I know you two didn’t get off on the right foot, but Ben’s not a bad guy. And the people who work on his campaign have been super nice, too.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the news when I can. You do look happy,” he said. 

“It’s pretty interesting,” she said eagerly. “I never spent much time thinking about politics before, but having the right people in office is important, you know? There are so many ways we could make a difference if Ben wins. Even little things—it doesn’t have to be a huge change to have a big effect on people’s lives.”

Finn laughed, a warm sound that made her smile. “You sound like the one running for office. Maybe you ought to get into politics.”

Rey scoffed. “Hardly. I’m not educated enough.”

“Bullshit. And seriously, it's good to see you excited about something. You’ve always had a big heart, wanted to help people if you could. If this is an opportunity for you to find something you love doing, don’t overlook it.” He smiled at her again. 

“Maybe you’re right.” Rey thought about it; she could see herself working for some of the non-profits she’d visited for various campaign events. Or maybe even being a teacher. She could afford to go back to school now, after all; she should take the opportunity, since Ben had offered it.

“You know I’m right. And also, you should name the kid Phineas.” He winked.

Rey laughed at him. “Dream on.” 

Rey stood in front of the full-length mirror in Ben’s bathroom, staring at her reflection in the forest green gown Rose had helped her pick out for tonight’s fundraising gala. 

The high halter neck framed her face and updo elegantly, and the long skirt had been hemmed to the perfect length, just skimming her toes in a pair of flat silver sandals. She twisted around, turning her head to inspect the back and make sure her tattoo was covered. The fact the dress was sleeveless was daring enough, since that meant her half-sleeve was exposed. But Rose had opined that Rey couldn’t go through life covered down to her elbows every day, and that people would have to get used to her tattoos eventually. 

“It’s the twenty-first century,” she’d said. “Soccer moms have tattoos these days, they’re mainstream. A few people might clutch their pearls, but it’s not like Ben was going to have the vote of people who think body art is vulgar anyway.”

Rey wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t think of any other politician’s wife she’d seen with noticeable ink. On the other hand, anyone who bothered to look her up on Facebook knew they were there. With Rose’s help, Rey had scrubbed all of her social media profiles squeaky-clean weeks ago, but more than enough old pictures of her were tagged in other people’s accounts to make it clear that she had tattoos.

“Rey?” Ben’s voice and a soft tap on the bedroom door made her start. “Are you almost ready? Mitaka’s here.”

“Just a second.” She put in a pair of long crystal drop earrings and nervously spun in front of the mirror one last time, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. She grabbed the little silver clutch lying on the bed and opened the door, coming face to face with Ben in his crisp white shirt and black dinner jacket. 

“Wow.” He swallowed. “You look amazing.”

So did Ben; he filled out a tuxedo extremely well. 

“You mean it’s amazing what an expensive makeover can do.” Rey deflected the compliment, since it really was the dress making her look this good, but secretly she felt pleased that Ben appreciated it too. He held out his arm and she tucked her hand into the bend of his elbow. With his warm arm against her side and the armour of a great outfit, she was beginning to think she could pull this off. 

Rey wasn’t drunk, of course—she’d spent all evening sipping ginger ale out of a champagne glass Poe kept refilling for her—but the high of confidence she was riding after four hours of successfully mingling with a bunch of rich people was almost as intoxicating as alcohol. And at least she’d been able to retreat to a corner with Poe for a moment every now and then, where they entertained themselves ruthlessly making fun of all the Botoxed foreheads and hair plugs.

“I was terrified about tonight,” she admitted to him, taking another sip of ginger ale. 

“Why?” He sounded honestly confused. “You’re great at this.”

“Talking to regular people is one thing,” she said. “But a bunch of rich assholes who think Ben married beneath him? That’s a way tougher crowd.”

“Listen to me,” Poe said seriously, waving his glass. At this point in the evening, he’d just switched from water to vodka, and was definitely loosening up. “You know that’s bullshit, right? You’ve worked twice as hard as any of them to make a life for yourself. This country’s fucked up lack of a proper social safety net is not your fault.” 

Rey laughed. “You sound exactly like Finn.”

“That’s because he’s right.” He looked out across the crowded ballroom. “Most of these people probably didn’t vote for Leia in the last election anyway, so fuck ‘em. As long as they give us money to salve their conscience.” 

“To making the rich pay,” Rey said. She held out her glass and Poe clicked his against it in a toast. 

They watched Ben work his way across the ballroom toward them, smiling constantly (if not very genuinely), pausing every few seconds to shake hands and ask questions and remember everyone’s name—over and over. When he finally joined them, he slid an arm around Rey automatically, and heat raced up her spine.

All night long, from the moment he helped her out of the car, she’d been agonizingly aware of the warmth and solidity of Ben’s body next to hers. Whenever he brushed against her, she felt it like an electric thrill; each time he touched her, she shivered. The pregnancy hormones everyone talked about had finally hit her, apparently. Not only did she have her appetite for food back, Ben looked as delicious as a full-course meal. The most frustrating part was that she didn’t have to imagine how good sex with him could be: she knew. Her memories of that one night hadn’t conveniently faded away. 

And he was so invested in playing the part of the perfectly solicitous husband—so good at it—that it was hard for her not to fall for it too. She sighed and let herself lean into his arm a bit more heavily. 

“Are you tired?” Ben asked, on cue. “Mitaka can take you home. These things can be exhausting, I don’t want you to overdo it.”

“Take Rey home yourself,” Poe said. “I’ve got it covered. Things are winding down anyway.”

Rey turned her head against Ben’s sleeve for a second and breathed in the scent of wool and woodsy cologne. She was tired, and horny, and she wasn’t going to have any sex for the next six months. Even if she hadn’t vetoed the idea on their wedding day, Ben hadn’t shown any sign of being interested in her ballooning body. 

Great, now she was horny and cranky. 

Ben slipped off his jacket, throwing it over the back of a chair, and went to the fridge for a celebratory beer—his first drink of the night. He was feeling more optimistic about this election than ever before. Some of the people at the fundraiser tonight had been surprisingly open to listening to his plans for an agricultural reform bill. Rey’s personal charm—and the photos of her on the tractor—hadn’t hurt.

Rey stomped into the kitchen, that amazing green dress billowing out behind her, and poured herself a glass of water. The fridge door rattled when she slammed it shut.

“Are you mad about something?” he asked, confused. She’d been full of charm and grace at the fundraiser, and he’d had trouble keeping his eyes off her when they were separated. He kept wanting to introduce her to everyone there instead of talk about his boring self.

She gave a quick shrug, the taut line of her back speaking of anger. “Just tired.” 

Ben didn’t believe it, especially when she showed no sign of wanting to go to bed. Instead, she downed her glass of water and poured herself another. He didn’t say anything about the fact that she was going to spend the whole night getting up to pee, since that seemed like poking the pregnant bear in her current mood.

“When was the last time you had sex?” she asked abruptly. “Be honest.”

Ben blinked, caught off guard again by the conversation’s sudden swerve into interrogation. “Uh, with you.”

“Really?” She whirled around and eyed him skeptically, which stung. He wasn’t in the habit of lying. Why was she picking a fight? 

“Really. Why would I lie?”

She crossed her arms over her chest—Ben tried to ignore the way that emphasized her already amazing breasts—and stared at him, biting her lip. “Would you fuck me, if I asked?”

Ben choked on his beer. He wanted to shout “Yes!” but he swallowed back the instinctive reaction. “Where did that come from?” 

She looked down, swallowing. “The hormones have kicked in. They’re making me crazy.” She spun away and dropped onto the couch with a sigh, kicking her shoes off. Her skirt rode up her long legs as she rested her feet against the arm. “Never mind. It’s stupid. Forget I asked.”

Ben realized he’d spent too long staring at her, trying to think of what to say. He cleared his throat. “I was just a bit surprised, okay? This isn’t where I was expecting the conversation to go.”

But he was half-hard already from thinking about it, and his throat was dry. He took a long swallow of his beer, set the bottle back down, and walked over to the couch. Rey tensed, but he stopped when he got to her feet and slowly got down on his knees. It felt a little ridiculous, kneeling in front of her in his dress pants that pulled tight across his thighs and didn’t do anything to conceal his swelling erection, but the look on her face made it worthwhile. Her lips were parted, her eyes wide, and her cheeks had started to flush just a bit pinker.

He put his hands on either side of her knees and ducked his head even lower, looking up at her with speculation. “Whatever you want me to do, I will.”

What he really wanted was for her to let him caress her barely rounded belly, to worship her, take care of her—but he’d settle for her pulling his hair.

Instead, she stayed silent, her chest rising and falling a little quicker than before. The flush on her face had started to travel down her neck and arms.

“Come on,” he murmured, curling his hands under her thighs. Her legs twitched and she bit her lip in a way that made him even hungrier. “What do you want?”

Rey cupped her hands around his face, staring down at him for a long moment before she leaned down to kiss him hungrily. 

It was only much later that Ben realized she’d never answered his question.


	5. Chapter 5

From the moment he woke, Ben felt a warm blanket of contentment from simply knowing that Rey was here in bed beside him. He blinked his eyes open slowly and saw her curled up facing him. Her cold toes were tucked between his shins and her breath moved along his chest, her hair tickling his chin where its wayward strands moved in the breeze from the open window. He could feel the slightly protruding curve of her belly where it rested against his hip.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, slid away from her carefully, and got out of bed. As much as he wanted to wake her up and enjoy giving her an orgasm or two before breakfast, Rey needed sleep more. They were both facing a long, busy day: the election was only a week away and Poe would be raring to go. Ben had deliberately left his phone in the kitchen last night so he could have some undisturbed rest. Otherwise, he was sure, a dozen urgent texts would have woken him up at three am.

He hummed tunelessly to himself as he showered, dressed, and put on the bright tie Rey had chosen for him. Rose mocked him for wearing it as much as possible, but Ben didn’t care; he already thought of it as a lucky charm. On the way out of the bedroom, he stopped to kiss the warm bare slope of Rey’s shoulder. She made a tiny, satisfied noise and snuggled deeper into the pillow without opening her eyes. 

The peaceful, pale gold light of fall sunrise filled the kitchen. Once he had a coffee in hand, Ben started a pot of decaf for Rey and grabbed his tablet to check the early headlines. 

The first words he saw made him slam his mug down on the kitchen island with a crack. “Fucking _fucker_.” 

The rest of the article was even worse: worse than anything he could’ve imagined. Ben could feel the blood drain from his face as he skimmed the text, only half-absorbing the details. He tabbed over to another site, and another, but they were all running variations on the same story. He snatched up his phone from the charging pad and saw that Poe had texted 23 times since 5 am; the last one at the top read CALL ME ASAP.

“Did you make decaf, Ben?” Rey wandered into the kitchen, yawning and stretching her arms overhead so that her small bump strained against the t-shirt she was wearing—one of his. She smiled at him and he stared back at her speechlessly, wishing he didn’t have to open his mouth and destroy her.

“What is it?” The smile slid off her face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Rey. So sorry.” He put the tablet down on the island so she could see the headline on the screen. “Someone managed to track down who your parents are—were, I mean. Both of them are dead.”

Rey turned a ghastly greyish-white like damp paper and swayed on her feet. He stepped forward to gather her in his arms and she went without protest, leaning heavily weeping into his suit jacket. It wasn’t until he felt a dampness where his cheek pressed against her temple that Ben realized he was crying too.

She pulled away after only a minute and sank down onto the closest kitchen stool. She picked up the tablet in both hands and stared down at it, her expression growing more and more bewildered as her eyes flickered across the text. “I don’t understand. How did they find them…? I guess it doesn’t matter.” She looked up at him pleadingly. “What’s going to happen now? Will this be a problem?”

“Probably.” He hated saying it, when she should be dealing with her own grief, but she’d asked, and he knew Rey always wanted to know the truth. “It’s bullshit, of course, but shit sticks.”

A bitter laugh exploded from Rey. She dropped the tablet and folded over the counter, burying her head in her arms. “You mean you just lost the election. Because of me.”

He wrapped his arms around her, bending low to talk in her ear. “No, Rey. If I lose, it’ll be because of that bastard Hux. This has his fingerprints all over it.” 

His phone buzzed and bounced across the kitchen counter, making them both jump. Ben picked it up with a sick feeling in his gut, like the time he’d gotten on the biggest rollercoaster at the state fair and hadn’t realized until the carriage had clunked all the way up to the peak of the first hill that he really didn’t want to be there. But just like then, there was no way off this ride.

It was Poe, calling for the tenth time. Ben swiped his thumb to refuse the call—he didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone, with Rey listening in—and texted a quick _meet you at the office_.

“I have to go.” He looked back at Rey, who was still slumped over the island. “Do you want me to see if Rose can come over?”

“No. I don’t know, maybe.” He could hear the raw pain in her muffled voice. Damn Hux, for forcing Rey to learn the truth about her family this way. Helplessly, he smoothed his hand up and down her back again. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m sorry, Rey,” he repeated, stroking her hair. 

She shook her head sharply without looking up. “It’s not your fault. You offered to look for my parents and I blew you off.”

“It wasn’t because I thought something like this would happen,” he said quietly. “I just wanted you to know what happened to them.”

“Well, now I know.” 

The crowd of reporters on the sidewalk outside the campaign office surged up to the car door as soon as Mitaka slowed down, barking questions and baying for his blood. Ben set his teeth and put on an impassive mask before he got out of the car, determined to plow through the crowd without giving anything away and getting inside as soon as possible. If he shouldered his way through the reporters a little more roughly than he needed, he didn’t care what it was going to look like on camera. The shouts bombarding him from all sides were almost overwhelming and his heart began to pound. 

Well, he’d half-expected this to be a disaster all along, even though Rey had overcome his reservations and convinced him to hope. Maybe Poe would have a miraculous plan for how to deal with it.

But one look at Poe’s face told Ben it was definitely as bad as he thought and probably worse. He’d never seen Poe look this grim before, not even the night Snoke had leaked the news of Han’s criminal record. The open office space was a madhouse: multiple landlines and cell phones were ringing, beeping, and buzzing only to be ignored by all of the workers and volunteers huddled in front of the TV in the corner. Rey’s name struck through the din and Ben stiffened. 

“Get in here,” Poe said flatly, and pulled him into the tiny cramped back office with a firm slam of the door.

“Did you know about this?” he demanded.

Ben erupted. “No, of fucking course I didn’t! What kind of idiot do you think I am?”

“The kind of idiot who might have fallen in love and thought he could keep his wife’s background a secret.” Poe sighed. “But I did think you’d have more sense than to try and hide it from me.”

Ben stalked around the desk, throwing his laptop case on the chair. “So it’s true?”

“Unfortunately, yes, as far as I can tell.” Poe folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door. “I talked to the reporter who broke the story and she shared the documentation with me. Apparently, some anonymous tipster sent it to her.”

“Anonymous tipster?” A haze of disbelieving rage in Ben’s vision made Poe seem blurry and distant. 

“Yeah, I know. A thousand bucks says it was Hux.”

With no way to release it, Ben’s rage kept churning inside his chest, forming a chaotic molten core that felt like a volcano about to erupt. “So he just gets to fuck us over like this? And there’s nothing we can do?”

Poe rubbed his eyes, already bloodshot and red-rimmed. “In the end, it’s all on the public record. And it’s true. So there’s not really any legal recourse.” 

Ben drove his hands into his hair and fisted them, hard. The sting in his scalp wasn’t enough pain to distract him from Rey’s tears this morning, but it was a start. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid as to believe that his history wouldn’t end up rebounding on him, that it didn’t matter if he’d done things he regretted, he could get past that and work to make a difference. He’d wanted to do better for Rey, and for their kid. He’d even started to—almost—look forward to becoming a father. It was too good to be true, and he should have known that. All along Hux had been waiting to hurt Rey, to use her against him—

“Ben. _Ben_.” Poe’s voice rose to a near-shout. He realized he was standing in front of the back wall of his office and that the campaign posters that had hung there were ripped down, in tattered scraps at his feet. “Are you finished?”

Ben laughed, a little wild and out of control. “In politics? Absolutely.”

Poe shook his head. “You asshole,” he said without heat. “Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to help.”

“What will, then?” Ben demanded. “I’m going to lose this election to Armitage fucking Hux.” He clenched his fists so tight that his knuckles cracked, wishing he could clock that smug douchebag just once. Maybe, after his concession speech, he could get close enough for one punch…

“Yeah, barring a miracle, you’re going to lose. So start thinking about the next election. What’s going to help set you up for that? Acting like a toddler and pouting won’t do it. You get out there, you keep campaigning, you show that you’re not going to let that shithead scare you into shutting up and going away!” By the end of his speech Poe was jabbing the centre of Ben’s chest with a finger and shouting up into his face.

Ben rubbed a hand over his eyes, and took in a deep breath. “Fine.” It was stupid and pointless, but it was the honourable thing to do. He was going to lose, but he didn’t have to quit and make it any easier for Hux; he could do at least that much for his mother. 

Rey had believed that over the past two months she’d developed such an impenetrably thick skin that nasty comments could no longer affect her. But actually, it turned out that even now she could still be hurt and disgusted by what people said.

The article was bad enough: not in what it came out and said in so many words, but in what it implied. It laid out all the (awful) facts about her parents that she’d never heard before, telling everyone that they were junkies who’d abandoned their kid before they overdosed. Then it scrutinized her childhood in foster care. They’d found everyone who’d ever had a bad word to say about her, apparently, like Unkar Plutt, who called her lazy and dishonest. Even the Hotel Galaxy had confirmed that she was fired “for violating hotel policy regarding guest interactions,” which made her sound like a hooker.

There were a few positive references, like Maz and the high school teachers who’d encouraged her to apply for scholarships, but those didn’t stack up to much. They hadn’t talked to Finn, either, which was too bad, because then she wouldn’t have been blindsided like this—he’d have given her a heads up. 

But of course, the worst was what people were saying about her in the comments. Rey wasn’t naive, she knew perfectly well that internet comments were a buffet of the absolute dregs of humanity. Still, reading what they dared to call her in black and white was eye-opening.

Rose reached out from behind her and slapped the laptop shut. “Never read the comments, Rey, you know better than that.” 

She circled the couch and pushed the laptop away before sitting down on the coffee table to take Rey’s unresisting, cold hands in her warm grip. “What do you want to do? Poe’s probably already plotting revenge, but my advice would be to put out a brief statement, just the facts, and then ignore it. Hux can try to milk it for all its worth, but a, it doesn’t really have anything to do with Ben, and b, people aren’t so much with holding the sins of the parents against the kids anymore.”

Rey silently, pointedly, looked at the laptop.

“Except for a few assholes who we don’t care about anyway.” Rose shrugged. 

Rey’s eyes welled with tears and she looked up at the ceiling to keep them from spilling over. Rose was too much of an optimist. Maybe most people weren’t assholes, but enough of them were that she was sick and tired of defending herself from them.

Now that her background had been exposed, Rey was no longer an asset to Ben; he and his campaign would be better off without her, even if he hadn’t realized it yet. She’d just started to wonder if maybe, with a little luck, the two of them could build on the foundation of this accident and turn it into a real partnership. But of course she couldn't catch a break.

She didn’t say any of that, though, she just sniffled and unsuccessfully tried to blink back the tears that were suddenly streaming down her face. Rose startled her by leaning forward and squeezing her in a brief, fierce hug. Then she passed her a wad of tissues and waited while Rey blew her nose.

On election night, Ben should have been excited, keyed up and full of nerves; instead, he was just counting down the minutes until he could read his concession speech. 

The last week of the campaign had felt like planning a funeral—and Ben had done just that eight months ago, so he had fresh experience of what that was like for comparison. He and Poe went through the motions: policy announcements, public appearances in front of smaller and smaller crowds, setting up transportation for confirmed voters. Ben even went door-knocking with Rose and a few of the youngest, most stubborn volunteers. 

But none of the busywork changed the fact that they were doomed. The poll numbers had stayed flat and funds dwindled as donations trickled to a halt.

It would’ve been bearable if he could have taken refuge with Rey, but he couldn’t. He had to admire her indomitable pride and bearing; she came with him on all his public appearances, ignoring every shouted question with total aplomb, and her smile even looked convincing. She played the role of poised political spouse so well she deserved an Oscar. 

But she didn’t spend any time with him outside of camera range. When they were at home, she stayed in the guest room, except for brief appearances in the kitchen to make herself a meal or a cup of tea. She didn’t share his bed any longer, and all of her things that had slowly migrated to his room disappeared. 

Ben stopped sleeping much himself. He’d lie in bed rewriting his concession speech, or scrolling through depressing emails and news stories on his phone until he could get up and start the whole dispiriting process over again. 

He glanced down at the sheet of paper in his hand again. He had the whole thing memorized anyway. It wasn’t long; he didn’t want to keep all of the volunteers who’d worked hard for his campaign waiting for too long before they could get shitfaced.

Poe knocked on the door of the suite and slipped in. “Ben? You can go ahead now. The results from the fifth precinct came in, the local news finally called it for Hux and the reporters have showed up.”

“Thanks, man.” Ben pushed out the words with an effort. “You know I’d never have made it this far without you and Rose.”

“Next time we’ll win.” Poe thumped him on the back in a way that was probably supposed to be encouraging.

“There won’t be a next time, Poe. I had my shot.”

“We’ll see,” Poe said. 

“Absolutely not.” Ben’s voice was grim and final.

Poe threw up his hands. “Come on, Ben! Do you think your mom would want you to be a quitter? What about Rey—”

“Don’t drag her into this,” Ben roared, crumpling the paper in his hand. “She worked her ass off to help this campaign, she doesn’t owe us anything else. She doesn’t need to go down with this ship. In fact, I should probably offer to divorce her right now.”

“Ben Solo, you are a royal fucking idiot.”

“I know that, thanks!”

“Are you serious?” Poe asked quietly. “I mean, if you honestly want to cut her loose, that’s an option. And you’re right—it might be the easiest, least messy thing to do. But you’d be losing her. And your kid, too.”

Ben swallowed. Now that his anger was ebbing from its high point, he felt sick and empty, hollow as a cracked eggshell. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “It’s like one of those optical illusion puzzles. From one angle, Rey was the best thing to ever happen to me. From the other, we’ve ruined each other’s lives. I just don’t know which one is the truth.”

Poe sighed and slumped against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know either, buddy. But I’m not the one who needs to decide. And I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but some things are more important than politics—like the rest of your life, and whether you want to save your marriage.”

Ben swallowed again, his throat aching. “Do you think I can?”

“That’s something only you and Rey can figure out. So talk to her,” Poe said. He stood up and flung the door open. “But first, get out there and give your speech. And from now on, please leave me the fuck out of your love life and its complications.”

Rey entered the suite with a strange feeling of déjà vu. Even though this hotel was hundreds of miles away from the Hotel Galaxy and not nearly as luxurious, there was still some fundamental resemblance between all hotel rooms. Her relationship with Ben had started in one, and now it looked like it was going to end in one. 

He’d disappeared within five minutes of giving his concession speech. He’d made a round of the ballroom, shaking hands and thanking everyone, but by the time Rey had finished holding a desperately cheerful conversation about what Rose planned for her next job, she’d looked around the room and seen that he was gone. 

He was standing by the window, staring out across the jewelled net of city lights that spread out until the darkness swallowed them. 

She crossed the room and put her arms around him from behind, resting her forehead against the centre of his back. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. If I’d known this would happen, I’d never have agreed to marry you,” she whispered into his creased and sweaty shirt. 

“We’ve been over this, Rey. It’s not your fault.” But his tense spine didn’t relax, and Rey didn’t believe him. At some level, Ben had to blame her. She’d been the one to crash into his life, disrupting all of his careful plans with her unexpected surprises, and she hadn’t changed anything for the better. All she’d done was drag more trouble into his life.

“You don’t have to stay any longer.” He covered her hand with his own, but his voice was thin and toneless.

Rey blinked away her tears. She’d known that he wouldn’t want her anymore, and there was no reason for him to want their kid, but still, she’d hoped. She knew she could make it on her own; she’d always known that. She’d just wished in vain that for once, she wouldn't have to—that she’d have a partner to lean on when she needed a little help.

He turned in her arms to face her, his mouth open as though he had more to say. Rey didn’t want to hear it. She drew his head down to kiss him instead, because this was all she had to offer him right now. Winding her hands into his hair, she held him close and pressed her body into his, feeling her skin tingle everywhere the warmth of their bodies collided. He sighed into the kiss and finally the taut clench of his muscles relaxed. Rey crystallized her whole essence into the kiss. She made herself forget what she was about to lose, forget everything but the smell and taste and solid presence of Ben under her hands.

Afterward, Ben fell into an exhausted doze. Rey didn’t sleep; she lay beside him and waited until she could get up without waking him and call in the favour Rose had offered her. 

It was cold, even for late November, but Rey ran hot these days with the baby adding extra body heat. She spent hours outside every day sitting on her favourite bench in the park, watching the fountain run sluggishly. The basin was choked with fallen leaves now and the water would be turned off for the winter soon. She wondered if she’d still be sitting here in January, staring at icicles dangling from the basin and trying to find peace. Or maybe in May, with a sleeping baby strapped to her chest...

“Rey?”

She blinked. Was this a hallucination? It couldn’t be—if she was imagining Ben, he’d look better. 

Frankly, he looked like shit. He needed a haircut, even given the usual shaggy state of his hair, and the circles under his eyes were dark and bruised-looking. Rey wondered if he’d lost some weight; his shoulders were as broad as ever, but his coat and pants seemed to hang a little looser off his frame. 

“What are you doing here?” She pulled her jean jacket tighter in a useless attempt to camouflage her bigger belly.

He held up a manila envelope. “I brought the divorce settlement.”

She looked away, watching the leaves sifting down from the trees into the fountain. “You could have couriered them.” 

“There’s a certified cheque in here too,” he said. 

“So what? That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Can I sit?” 

She shrugged without looking at him, but she slid down the bench so that he could sit at the other end. 

Ben put the envelope down on the slats between them. “This is what we agreed to. It’s all there. Plus the divorce settlement and a joint custody agreement.”

“That isn’t what we agreed to!”

He shrugged, but the hurt in his eyes went deep. “I was hoping you might reconsider. At least let me see the kid. Or—” he took a shuddering breath. “Or even give staying married a try.” 

“Why the hell would you want that?” She wrapped her arms around herself, propping them on top of her belly and holding her elbows tight. “You lost because of me.”

Ben laughed, bitterly. “I was always going to lose, Rey. Hux had more money and more backing from the start. You were the first thing that gave me a fighting chance.”

A warmth started to pulse in her heart and move through her veins, but she ignored it. “I can’t do anything for your career now. I’m not a suitable politician’s wife.”

“I don’t give a shit about what you can do for my career!” Ben reached one hand part way toward her and then dropped it back to his side. “And I don’t need a politician’s wife, because I finally realized what should have been obvious from the start—I don’t have any interest in being a politician. 

“Our marriage is not a—a career boost, or a political strategy. Maybe it started that way, but now I want you, Rey, more than I ever wanted to be a senator. That was never something I wanted for myself; it was always just a duty, trying to fulfill my mother’s last request.” His hands moved restlessly, tugging at the hem of his coat. “I can find other ways to make a difference, but I can’t find another you.”

“You told me to go!” Rey sniffled angrily and smacked her fist on the arm of the bench so hard it hurt. “You’re so fucking stupid, you wouldn’t believe that I might want to be there for you without being paid.”

“I didn’t. But that’s on me, Rey, on my damage. When I had time to think, I realized that we meant more to each other than that. And I want to do better. If you’ll come back and let me try being your husband again.”

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and finally turned her head to look at him full on. She wanted to see his face when she asked her next question. “Why should I do that?”

“Because I’ll be there for you, and for our kid. I promised to do that, and I meant it. I do take my promises seriously.” He stared at her with a hopeful intensity, as though he were willing her to believe him. 

“What, you mean support us? What are you planning to do for a job?” Rey asked, honestly curious.

“Whatever I can. I can go back to being a lawyer, there’s always a market for ex-politicians at certain law firms. Or teach; the university law school would probably hire me as an instructor.” He smiled a little crookedly. “If we stayed married, you might qualify for free tuition in that case.”

Rey snorted and her mouth twisted into a rueful line. In some ways, at least, Ben really did know her—that was probably the best marriage perk he could’ve offered her. He still hadn’t talked about anything emotional, though.

“Why do you want to stay married?” The baby might have sensed the tension in her body, or maybe it was just restless—Rey didn’t know, but there was a sudden shift in her internal gravity as it rotated, and then a sharp kick under her ribs made her wince. 

She saw Ben’s gaze move like it was magnetized to her roiling belly. He stared at the undulations visible under her t-shirt and swallowed, hard. “I told you. I made a promise, and I want to keep it.”

“No, you told me why I should stay married to you, because it would be best for me and the kid. I mean—why do you want to stay married to me? What do I give you that you can’t get from anyone else?” 

Rey was done with being married for purely practical, selfish reasons. She’d been there, done that, and it turned out to suck. She needed to know whether she mattered to him—her, personally, not just as a salve to his overdeveloped sense of responsibility.

Ben looked at again, nervously, but he could only hold her gaze for a moment before he closed his eyes. His mouth twisted as he tried to form words and then paused to think. “You saw me,” he said at last, softly. “We were strangers, and you didn’t know who I was, but you knew me. And you might feel like no-one special, Rey, but you are to me. I love you because you’re brave, and brutally honest, and you have the most enormous appetite for nachos I’ve ever seen.” His voice caught and he drew in a deep hitching breath. “And I never thought I wanted a kid, but now that it’s happening… I can’t believe I got this chance. I’m amazed and terrified and I can’t stand the thought of not being able to discover what will happen. Together with you.”

Rey only realized she was crying heavily, silently, when a tear dripped from her chin and splattered on her shirt. She turned toward Ben and held her hands out to him. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

She expected him to grab her hands and kiss her but instead he curled over and pressed his forehead to her belly, cupping it in those enormous hands. As big as she was now, he could still almost span her entire belly. He kissed her belly button and Rey made a disgusted noise through her tears. “I have an outie now, that’s gross.”

He looked up at her and smiled, a dimple in his cheek punctuating his delighted grin. “I’ve seen every inch of you, pregnant and otherwise, and absolutely all of you is beautiful.”

“Yeah, sure,” Rey grumbled. “Are you still going to tell me that after you’ve seen this kid come out of my crotch?” 

“Always.”

She sniffled, tears still flooding her eyes and leaking down her cheeks. Fucking hormones, why were they making her so weepy? “But you don’t know that. You don’t know what will happen. There are no guarantees, Ben! The baby could get sick, or it could d-die, or we could still end up hating each other and getting divorced in a few years, or—or…” Her words were drowned in a flood of hiccuping sobs and she pressed her hand over her mouth trying to make it stop. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Ben folded her gently in his arms and she pressed her face into his crisp dress shirt, dampening it with tears (and probably snot). He held her with such tenderness it made more tears flow—she couldn’t stop them. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. And I don’t think we will break up, but if it ever comes to a point when we’re better apart, then we’ll do that. People can still be good parents without being married to each other, and we’re both going to be there for our kid. Whatever happens,” he repeated. 

“You’re right.” Rey leaned away from Ben so that she could swipe her face with her hands. Tears drying on her cheeks, she looked up and smiled damply at him. “You’re right. We’ll find out. Together.”


	6. Chapter 6

Leia was fussing and squirming in Poe’s arms, writhing herself into knots as only a frustrated toddler could. “Come on, kiddo,” he begged, “I can’t put you down right now. In a minute, okay, once your parents are up on stage?”

Rose laughed at him. “Only you would try reasoning with a two year old, Dameron. Use bribery.” She snagged Leia’s current favourite toy—a squishy stuffed bird of some description—from the diaper bag Finn was carrying and dangled it in front of small, chubby hands that instantly grabbed at it. “See?”

Leia settled back in Poe’s arms, momentarily content now that she was able to cram the toy in her mouth and chew on it. Finn smoothed a lock of her hair back out of her face before she started chewing on it as well. 

Ben walked up, pulling his suit jacket on, and she immediately dropped the toy to the ground, holding her arms out pleadingly. “Up, dada! Up!” 

“She’ll drool on your suit,” Poe warned. 

“I don’t care. Come on, give me my kid.” Ben scooped the toddler out of Poe’s arms and swept her up into the air, legs kicking as she screeched delightedly. 

Rose laughed again at Poe’s disgruntled expression. “It’s just a phase, Poe, you’ll be her favourite again soon.”

“I think you mean Uncle Finn,” Finn said.

Poe slung an arm around him. “You keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

Rose brushed uselessly at the damp spot where Leia had already mouthed at the shoulder of Ben’s suit. The PA system crackled to life, blaring the upbeat music that was the signal for the candidate’s arrival. “Shit, that’s my cue,” Ben muttered, shifting Leia in his arms. “Gotta get up on stage.” 

“Shit!” Leia echoed her father. 

“Solo, I warned you about this.” Poe rubbed his forehead irritably. “Your kid swearing into the mic will not be amusing. Please remember to stick that toy back in her mouth if you can’t shut her up any other way.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ben was already moving toward the stairs at this side of the stage.

Finn pulled him to the side and they watched with Rose as the family gathered behind the podium: Rey wearing a red dress that made her stand out next to Ben’s understated dark suit, and chubby Leia in a bright polka dot outfit that had been a gift for her recent second birthday.

“Thank you all for coming today. I’m here to announce that I’m running for city councillor, and I hope to have your votes. I know that together we can make this community a better place for everyone.” 

The crowd, packed full of supporters thanks to Poe and Rose, burst into cheers and whistles, and Rey’s smile broadened even wider. “I’ll keep it brief, but I just want to say first of all that I wouldn’t be here without the love and support of my partner, Ben Solo…”

Ben stepped forward with a quick wave, and then faded to the back of the stage with their daughter still in his arms, both of them gazing adoringly at Rey.

Poe tuned out the rest of the speech, since he’d written half of it and heard the whole thing rehearsed until he could have recited it in his sleep. Instead he scanned the crowd, cataloguing their reactions: the smiles, the skeptical furrowed brows, the starry eyes as Rey talked about her hopes and plans.

“Sounds good.” Rose poked him in the ribs, and he winced. “You think she’s got a chance?”

He shrugged. “Nothing’s a sure bet in politics, Rose, you know that. But one way or another, Rey’s going to make a difference.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> This story wouldn’t exist without:  
> 1) a book by Molly O’Keefe ( _Indecent Proposal_ ) from which I borrowed the premise & plot skeleton;  
> 2) my artist, the wonderfully kind & talented Dopt, a fandom friend who claimed this story without knowing it was me :D and encouraged me through the entire process whenever I lost steam and/or confidence;  
> 3) everyone in the word-wars channel of the RFFA server - if it weren’t for our sprints, this story would never have been finished!
> 
> (Although I did minimal research to ensure that the political events were technically possible, please be aware they’re at roughly a _West Wing_ level of plausibility.)


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